


Robotech Delta: Songstress Squad

by StokerFan



Series: Robotech Delta [1]
Category: Macross Delta, Robotech, Robotech Series - Jack McKinney
Genre: Explicit Sex, F/M, Sex, Walkure, miscegenation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-11-27 19:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20953523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StokerFan/pseuds/StokerFan
Summary: The United Nations Galactic Health Service is working with the Xaos Corporation to suppress a strange disease. A boy and a girl get caught up in this campaign against a chaotic plague. How will they survive?





	1. Chapter 1

A ship carrying cargo containers starts entering a planet below, having been cleared by orbital traffic control. Its goal is the airport at the outskirts of Shahal City. The ship’s robotech barrier system protects it from the friction as it passes through the planet’s atmosphere at high speed.

“Imagine if teleporters existed,” said the copilot.

“I’ll be retired by then,” chuckled the pilot.

The ship continues on its course, transferring over to the airport’s air traffic control. It circles around three times before getting clearance to land. Guided by ground crews, the ship lands at the Trans Galactic cargo terminal. The ground crew prepares to unload the cargo.

Meanwhile, in the terminal’s office…

“Today is your last day, Immelman,” says the foreman.

“My last day?” asks Hayate Immelman, one of the workers.

“Yeah, the company is projectin’ a reduction in volume, so we have to let go a lot of the workers,” replies the foreman, a large man in a plaid shirt.

“Listen,” protests Hayate, “I’ll take a pay cut.”

“Sorry, buddy, union rules.”

“Well, boss, could I at least finish the rest of the day.”

“Sure.”

_There goes another job._

Hayate walks to one of the large, human-shaped machines parked inside a storage hangar, called Workroids. It, like the others, is painted yellow, with black zigzag stripes. He steps into the cockpit and activates the controls. Manipulating the controls, he grabs the rectangular containers with the machine’s arms, setting them up where they can be shipped to various locations on the planet.

One of the containers has something unusual.

It is not the apples inside the container.

Hayate notices a cloaked bipedal figure. Upon closer inspection, that figure is a girl.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I just want to get away,” she replies.

“Okay, we’d better get you out of here.”

And so the girl climbs out, and Hayate looks at her. She has red hair and pale skin.

“The name’as Hayate,” he says.

“Freyja,” replies the girl.

“Listen, there’s going to be a meal break soon. It is best if you just keep a low profile. I’m not gonna report you to security. Just stay put while I finish.

Freyja watches as Hayate steps back into his work machine and starts unloading the containers, moving them to the loading area. She finds it rather interesting. She chews on one of the apples that she had pilfered from the container. She looks

After what seemed to be a long time, Hayate stops the Workroid and steps down from the cockpit.

“Freyja, you there?’ he asks.

“I’m here,” she replies.

“Let me punch out and escort you out.”

“Punch out?”

“Yeah, I gotta tell the boss I’m going for a meal break.”

Freyja stays put. She looked up towards the sky, which is getting darker. It must be sunset, like on most planets close enough to its parent star.

Pretty soon, Hayate walks with her through a gate. He waves to the guard, who waves at him back, not paying too much attention to the girl accompanying Hayate, as he is more concerned with keeping people out than keeping people in. Just right near the gate is a food truck.

“They have the best food,” says Hayate.

The two of them line up behind some workers. They hear snippets of conversations about the recent layoffs at the airport.

“That’s part of the business,” says Hayate. “And let’s face it; I’m not exactly cream of the crop.”

“What do you recommend?” asks Freyja.

“The _carne asada _tacos.”

Soon enough, they reach a front, and Hayate orders two _carne asada_ tacos from a mustachioed man inside the truck. The tacos are served less than a minute later. Freyja looks at it, some white flat bread-like thing with some green and brown stuff inside. She takes a bite, tasting the _carne asada_, the diced tomatoes, the lettuce, the _cotija_ cheese, the sour cream, and the guacamole.

“You know,” says Hayate, “one time I actually had a tricera-burger. It’s made from this animal that went extinct on Earth millions of years ago, but seemed to have been brought back during the Occupation.”

“You’ve been to Earth?”

“My dad once took me on a tour of Earth when I was little, when he had this thirty-days’ leave. We went to all sort of places. I kind of been drifting around, taking odd jobs.”

“I’m not well-traveled.” She finishes her _carne asada_ taco. “I’m so hungry for more. All I had to eat the past few days are apples. What are you going to do now?”

“Guess I’ll go back to my tiny apartment. Tomorrow I got to start my job search. What about you?”

“I want to be a singer.”

“With no place to sleep, no money, just the clothes on tyour back, you have a long way to go.”

Oooooooooo

On another planet, a boy named Heinz walks up to the stone podium. Several stone columns surround the podium and support the chamber.

It is time again.

He sings, and holographic images appear.

Ooooooooooo

“Do you hear that?” asks Hayate. Her turns his head and moves, but the sound seems to permeate the whole area, with no particular focus.

“Yes, I can hear it,” replies Freyja. “There’s gonna be trouble.”

Not far away, at a nearby military base, Sergeant First Class Phil Ormby of the Al Shahal National Guard hears this too. He and the others in his platoon had been preparing for live maneuvers in their Bioroids.

The song overtakes him.

The Bioroids move off, leaving the base on their hover sleds.

Not long afterward, Hayate and Freyja and the others around the food truck can hear the sound of distant explosions. This is followed by an alarm.

Hayate looks at a distance from behind a lamppost.

He can see a huge humanoid figure on a disk-shaped device. He recognizes it as a Bioroid, a war machine, operated by a direct neural interface with its pilot, originally developed by the ancient Robotech Masters.

He hears more explosions.

He looks and sees a man pinning another man to the concrete sidewalk, repeatedly punching him.

He runs towards the two. Before he can make it, two other man pull them apart.

He recognizes the attacker as Vince, who was a workroid driver for the airport. He wonders what is going on, as Vince seemed to be a generally a peaceable guy

“Come on,” says one of the men. “We got to take shelter from the attack.”

Hayate can hear that the attack was just a few blocks away. If the fight headed in this direction….

He then looks at Vince’s eyes and face, with blood vessels clearly visible.

“He has Var syndrome,” he says.

He looks up and wonders if the attacking Bioroids’ pilots also have Var syndrome.

Vince manages to break free, and Hayate swiftly delivers straight kick to the man’s solar plexus.

Meanwhile, the battle continues. Heavily armored crowd-control Bioroids arrive, with non-lethal weaponry used to contain unruly crowds when the superiors of the Bioroid operators want them alive. They are backed up by aircraft, either sent by the United Earth Forces or by the Al Shahal National Guard- Hayate could not tell from standing on the sidewalk.

Two of the men try to pin down Vince even as the Var-infected man struggles. Hayate briefly recalls what Var syndrome is- a disease that causes people to go berserk. He briefly wonders if he, or Freyja, are infected.

“Do you hear that?” asks Freyja.

“I do,” replies Hayate. He can hear some sort of soothing melody, even through this chaos.

They look and see a figure on the distance, a figure adorned in a trench coat.

The trench coat comes off, revealing a woman in flashy clothes, with long purple hair.

“That can’t be,” says Hayate.

“It’s Mikumo!” yells Feyja. “Mikumo of Walkure! She’s here.”

Mikumo breaks out into full song. Hayate rushes towards Vince. The blood vessels on his face and in his eyes are no longer obvious.

“What happened?” asks Vince.

“Var syndrome,” replies Hayate.

Vince looks up and sees some planes flying overhead. They launch these things.

And then he hears more music. There are singers flying on these floating discs- all opf them young women in flashy clothes. Variouis holograms appear.

“The rest of Walkure is here!” yells Freyja.

Hayate looks at the girl; she must be a real fangirl of Walkure. As the band sings, they fly close to the Bioroids, which seems to calm them down.

Ooooooooo

Meanwhile, in a ship in orbit called the _Aether_, the captain and the bridge crew monitor the latest Var syndrome outbreak.

“It’s working,” says Captain Ernest Johnson of the Xaos Corporation Merchant Fleet.

“We had better make sure to collect all the data,” says Dr. Naomi Singh of the United Nations Galactic Health Service Commissioned Corps, looking at some holographic displays showing various charts and numbers.

Ooooooooo

The impromptu concert in Shahal City continues, as the singing from Walkure suppresses the symptoms of Var Syndrome. The planes fly down and start changing shape and parts shift around. They are veritechs, and they land in a roughly humanoid shape as the crowds cheer. Their mechanical bodies fold, looking like planes with legs, and fly off, the crowd continuing their cheers.

Freyja looks at amazement. She is so close to her dream.

Ooooooo

“This is Islander of Delta Team,” hears the crew of the _Aether_. “Mission accomplished.”

“Copy,” replies Captain Johnson. “Standby.” He turns towards one of the women at a console. “Beth, open a channel with the local authorities,.”

“Aye aye, sir,” replies Beth Morton, a second mate sitting on the bridge.

ooooooooo

Not far away, an officer on board the _Hunter_-class carrier Agrama had also been listening in to the communications between the _Aether_ and the surface of Al Shahal.

“Walkure does it again,” he says.

“At least it’s something interesting for this watch,” says a U.N. spacy first lieutenant who currently has command of the bridge.

“Lieutenant,” we are picking up unknown signals,” says a crewman sitting at a console.

The lieutenant looks at the radar screen, seeing a set of five signals. “It seems toO orderly for a cluster of meteoroids,” he says. “Launch at intercept probe.”

Just seconds later, an automated probe is launched from one of the tubes. It accelerates out.

“We are getting a closer profile,” says a technician.

The lieutenant looks. The shapes appear to have wings. He immediately picks up a handset.

“This is the United Nations ship _Agrama_,” he says. “Identify yourself.”

There is no response.

“They are closing in,” says a radarman. “Forty thousand klicks and counting.”

“Alert the captain,” says the lieutenant. “Get the cannon fodder and a fighter squadron ready to launch. Put the ship on Yellow alert.”

“Yes, sir,” replies one of the operators.

“We got a visual,” says another crewman.

A holographic image appears. They can all see what looks like five fighter planes.

“What’s that?” asks United Nations Spacy Captain Nicole Brandt as she walks into the bridge.

“Five unknowns, ma’am,” answers the lieutenant who had been in charge of the bridge. “We’ve been sending hails on all channels. No response.”

“Captain, they are now at thirty thousand klicks and closing,” says a crewman.

Brandt picks up the handset. “This is Captain Brandt of the _Agrama_,” she says. “Identify yourself. If you get within one thousand klicks without a response, we will open fire.”

She looks at a radar screen. The five signals representing the spacecraft just keep getting closer.

The captain begins to sweat into her service khakis.

oooooooo

Inside one of the cockpits of the unknown aircraft is a man named Keith. He holds the control stick lightly.

“Master Arm on,” he hears Master Herman say.

Keith flips the Master Arm switch, one step closer to the point of no return.

He knows that her vision could have a costly price.

A secure channel is open. The pilots in these craft listen well. The abort code could be sent, requiring them to turn back and head into the mini-carrier.

“Target the lead carrier,” says Hermann.

Keith’s heart races. The point of no return is fast approaching.

“Fire!”

Keith and the others press the triggers, and missiles fly.

There is no return.

Oooooo

“They’ve opened fire!” yells a crewman.

“Red alert!” yells Captain Brandt. Suddenly, the bridge, and the rest of the _Agrama_, are bathed in strobing red lights. “Launch the cannon fodder! Send a message to the surface. ”

The cannon fodder- automated aerospace combat drones, are launched. Their AI decides to fight against the unknown fighters.

In less than a minute, all of the cannon fodder is destroyed.

“These are just toys!” yells one of the enemy pilots, a man named Bogue. “Where’s the real thing?”

“Hopefully, they don’t send out the real thing,” replies Master Hermann.

But they do. Fighter planes from the _Agrama_ launch, and engage them.

Soon, there is an aerospace dogfight.

“I can’t shake this guy,” says the lead pilot of the fighter squadron. “I can’t …arrrgh.”

The fighter plane is blown up by Master Hermann.

The enemy fighters proceed to blow up more and more of the planes. Bogue gets one.

He then finds an enemy fighter right behind him. And then it disappears in a flash of light.

“Stay alert,” says Hermann. “Or you won’t get a second chance.”

“Yes, sir,” replies Bogue.

Another plane is launched from the_ Agrama’s_ Gate 11R. Keith quickly destroys the fighter. He then turns a lever on the console of his cockpit, and the plane’s structure shifts around, transforming it into a humanoid shape known as a battloid.

“These unknowns are flying veritechs,” says a lieutenant on the bridge.

“Seal the hatches!” yells Captain Brandt.

Her order could not be executed in time.

Keith opens fire into Gate 11R.

Soon, the _Agrama’s_ hull expands, and the _Hunter_-class carrier explodes in a flash of light and fire, sending debris everywhere, with Keith outrunning the explosion in fighter mode. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle with the unknown enemy continues. Can Hayate and Freyja survive?

The Delta Team flies in a holding pattern above Shahal City. The pilots of Delta Team fly VF-31 Siegfrieds, the latest model of veritech fighters. These fighters are primarily used by the United Earth Forces, although the Xaos Corporation acquired them as part of their contract work with the United Nations Galactic Health Service.

“Delta Team, this is _Aether_ Control,” says Captain Johnson. “The Spacy’s defensive flotilla over Al Shahal is under attack by unknown forces.”

“What?” asks the team leader.

“Islander, you and your team must protect Walkure at all costs.”

Question of who would attack warships above the planet have to wait.

“Driller, Chef, Buckeye,” says Islander. “You heard the captain. Let’s go.”

Yes, sir!” the other pilots tell in unison.

They all monitor their radar screens, hoping that whatever attacked the Spacy vessels above wopuld not swoop down to attack them or Walkure.

But it is not to be.

“We got some bogeys headin’ this way!” yells Driller.

“You have permission to engage,” says Johnson. “Again, protect Walkure at all costs.”

“Roger that,” replies Islander.

And so they fly around with the enemy fighters, with cannon and laser beams being fired about.

“These look modern,” says Buckeye.

Delta Team does its best to keep the enemy fighters from killing the members iof Walkure- or Delta Team, for that matter.

“These guys are good,” says Chef.

“Keep the chatter down, Chef,” says Islander.

Buckeye lines up behind one of the enemy fighters. The pilot lines the targeting system, preparing to shoot down the enemy craft.

Suddenly, its image splits into three.

“They’re using some sort of jamming!” yells Buckeye.

They two fighter groups continue their dance with copious amounts of gunfire and laser beams and missile fire.

“This guy seems to have it in for me,” says Driller, having picked up a dance partner.

The two opposing fighters fly in some sort of helix pattern. They pass very close, less than ten meters.

Keith looks at the fuselage of the enemy fighter.

“A death reaper?” he asks.

Islander looks at his radar screen.

“Walkure!” he yells. “One of the enemy broke off and is heading in your direction!”

“Got it,” says Mikumo, still down on the ground, surrounded by the wreckage caused by the Bioroids.

“Die, Walkure!” yells Bogue as he opens fire.

One of his shots outright destroys a veritech battloid, while knocking down another battloid.

There are explosions on the ground. The Walkure band members take cover.

Freyja sees an explosion right where Mikumo was standing.

“Mikumo!” she yells.

One of the band members looks at a holographic display emerging from a wristwatch-like device.

“the Var is coming back,” she says.

Indeed it is. People infected with Var start acting out again, attacking indiscriminately.

Those include infected Bioroid pilots.

The rampage begins again.

There are more explosions.

Hayate and Freyja take cover.

Then Freyja sees it.

Mikumo rises again, bathed in a purple glow.

She and her bandmates start singing. Freyja feels something in her chest.

She feels a great desire.

She goes out onto the chaotic street and starts singing!

“Freyja!” yells Hayate.

He has to protect her.

He glances and sees a downed veritech battloid on the rubble strewn street.

The teen runs to the fallen battloid and gets into the cockpit. The controls are very similar to the Workroid that he drove just earlier today!

He activates the systems, placing his feet on the pedals.

“Freyja!” he yells.

Freyja is singing along with Walkure. She wonders if her own singing can suppress the Var syndrome.

Suddenly she is face-to-face with a Bioroid.

And it does not look friendly at all.

Her heart races.

Is this the end of her life?

Suddenly, the Bioroid trips. Freyja looks and sees a battloid.

“Hayate!” she yells, knowing that Hayate is at the controls of the battloid.

The battloid’s left hand grabs her.

“C’mon!” Hayate yells over a speaker. “I’ll take you to a safe place.”

Above them, Buckeye looks at the sensor screen in the cockpit.

“Active reaction detected!” yells the veritech pilot.

Islander looks at another screen.

“That battloid down there is dancing,” says the Delta team leader, as it does a leg sweep on one of the Bioroids.

“I can feel the rhythm,” says Freyja, as she is held by the mechanical hand of the battloid. “It’s like the color of the wind.”  


Hayate soon sees a volley of missiles heading right towards him. Engaging thrusters, the feet expel hot gases, propelling the war machine backward.

The battloid then flies up the side of a tall skyscraper, and the missiles hit the skyscraper.

The veritech then transforms into guardian mode, a kind of hybrid between fighter mode and battloid mode.

Soon it flies over a hundred meters above the streets of Shahal City.

Hayate can see the airport where he had worked just a few hours ago.

He can also see smoke and fire from the destructions.

He makes sure to hold Freyja in front of him.

He can see a safe area, not too far from the airport and downtown Shahal cCity.

He moves the stick and flies in that direction.

Suddenly, the veritech is struck by laser beams from above.

It falls, Hayate and Freyja along with it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freyja gets an invite from Walkure to audition.

Hayate is falling. He looks at the cityscape of Al Shahal approaches rapidly.

Is he going to die?

Is this the last minute of his life?

He finds it ironic how one’s worries and priorities can change in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly, one of the VF-31 Siegfrieds from Delta Team, in the humanoid shape of battloid mode, catches Hayate and Freyja.

An image of a helmeted pilot appears on the cockpit screen.

“Pilot, you okay?” asks a feminine voice.

“Thanks for saving us,” replies the teen. “Who are you?”

“This is Buckeye of Delta Team,” she answers. “Islander, I rescued the pilot.”

Soon, Buckeye places the damaged veritech back on the street, and then takes off to join her teammates.

Hayate uses the controls to put Freyja down. He glances at the war machine he was using. It looks old, probably from the last Robotech War over twenty years ago; the Al Shahal government must have purchased it from the U.N.. He looks up and sees explosions.

The band Walkure continues to sing, suppressing the Var syndrome symptoms. They appear like shining stars in the darkness of this city turned battlefield.

Ooooooo

“We are leaving,” says Master Hermann.

“What?” asks Bogue. “But we’re not done!”

“We have what we need. Let’s go. That’s an order!”

The mystery veritechs take off, leaving the atmosphere of Al Shahal.

“Do we pursue?” asks Islander.

“Negative,” says Captain Ernest Johnson of the _Aether_. “Stay with Walkure.”

“Yes, sir,” replies the Delta Team Leader. “Delta Team, let’s check out the surface.

Ooooooo

On the surface, Hayate and Freyja can see the devastation caused by the Var outbreak, devastation made possible by the outbreak affecting a team of Bioroids. There are a handful of civil defense Bioroids here, along with first responders and National Guard troops, some of them wearing Cyclone veritech armor, not to mention ambulances and fire trucks and police cars with their red and blue lights flashing.

A purple-haired woman in a flight suit approaches Hayate.

“You’re that pilot I rescued,” she says.

“Well, yeah,” replies Hayate.

He gets a slap to the face.

“You hijacked military equipment! You could have gotten yourself and your date here killed!” the pilot yells angrily.

“And here I was expecting a thank you. Your name’s Hawkeye, isn’t it?”

“Hawkeye?” asks the woman. “Do I look like an Iowan to you?”

Freyja wonders what an Iowan is, if Iowans are some sort of alien race descended from the Robotech Masters, like her people.

“Come on, Buckeye,” says a man in a flight suit, “Let’s go.”

The woman called Buckeye leaves. The man approaches Hayate and Freyja. He appears to be in his mid-twenties, and has fair skin, brown hair, and a goatee.

“Hayate Immelman,” Hayate says.

“Wing Commander Arad Mulder, leader of Delta Team,” says the veritech pilot. “My wingmen call me Islander. Please excuse my colleague Buckeye; I’ll deal with her.”

Seconds after Mulder leaves, Mikumo and the others in Walkure approach them.

“Goodbye now,” says Mikumo. “We have auditions in Barretteburg, on Planet Ragna.”

“I’m on the wrong planet,” says Freyja.

Delta Team flies off.

Oooooooo

The _Aether_ is back in orbit around Planet Ragna, not very far- in interstellar distance terms at least- from Planet Al Shahal. Inside the ship, Captain Johnson walks inside the a large room known as the situation room. Arad Mulder , Kaname Buccaneer, and Dr. Naomi Singh are inside, looking at some holographic displays projected from a flat table. Along the walls of the situation room are computer terminals, one of them manned by a technician.

“Preliminary report?” asks the captain.

“As you can see here, the enemy jamming makes it difficult to get a clear picture of the fighters that attacked us and the fleet,” says the Delta team leader. “It also messes with our targeting systems.”

“Any colors?”

“Not that we can identify with these images, sir.”

“Reina may be able to enhance these pictures that we can at least know what these fighters are- let alone who sent them,” says Kaname. “There is something else, Captain. During our concert, this girl started singing. We detected strong fold waves, and she was actually amplifying Mikumo’s fold waves.”

“That’s intriguing,” says Dr. Singh.

“Can you identify her?” asks Johnson.

“This is what she looks like.” Kaname presses a button, and a holographic image of a young red haired girl appears, albeit that her red is of a slightly lighter hue than Kaname’s hair. “We haven’t been able to identify HER; I’ll get Reina to work on it.”

“Very good,” replies the captain.

“There is one more thing, sir,” adds Mulder. “We managed to identify the veritech pilot that Buckeye rescued. Look here.”

The others see images of a teenage boy with blue hair on several pages, including a United Earth Forces Military Dependent I.D..

“Hayate Immelman,” says the Delta Team leader. “Military brat, moved out a year ago, working a series of jobs. He did get trained on operating workroids about six months ago, had that job before his employer went belly-up. Most recent employment is with the Trans Galactic at the cargo terminal in Shahal City.” A video appears of Immelman basically dancing with the veritech. “This kid is talented.”

“Perhaps if we can contact young Immelman,” says Kaname, “we might be able to find the mystery girl.”

“I will make my preliminary report to both the Ragna Branch office and Xaos Headquarters,” says Captain Johnson. “I will likely be busy answering questions.”

“And I shall write my preliminary report for the Surgeon General,” says Singh.

Everyone leaves the room.

ooooooooooo

Keith opens the dioor and walks into a large,well-furnished room.

“Ah, yes,” says a bespectaled man sitting behind a finely varnished L-shaped wooden desk.

“I must ask you something, Roid,” says Keith. “Why did we withdraw the attack?”

“Please explain.”

“We did much damage to the fleet, and I am sure we could have taken out at least one member of Walkure had we continued the attack.”

“We needed preliminary combat data,” replies the man named Roid. “And we were right to withdraw. U.N. reinforcements defolded from hyperspace just after the mini-carrier folded out of the Al Shahal system. The mini-carrier, and the Knights, would not have been able to survive against them.”

“Anything you wish to ask me?”

Roid looks at a monitor screen sitting at the corner of the desk.

Keith leaves the room. Walking through some hallways and stairways, he arrives at another room, the door finely carved and detailed. He enters the room and removes his shoes, allowing his feet to sink into the soft plush carpet that is vacuum-cleaned twice a week.

Inside the room is a purple-haired boy wearing a white cotton shirt blue jeans. He wears a headset on his head plays some sort of video game.

“How are you feeling?” asks Keith.

“Fine,” replies the boy, whose name is Heinz. “Throat’s a little scratchy.”

“Thanks for your singing. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Heinz puts the controller down. “I wonder if we should be doing this,” he says. “None one else knows who’s behind the attacks.”

“I did have some reservations,” says Keith, “but we are committed. It is what must be done to achieve Mother’s vision. Not _our_ mother- my birth mother.”

“I know she died when you were a baby.”

“Yes. But Father has told me about the grand vision she had. Imagine, a new galactic order, with peace and prosperity and harmony for ten thousand years.”

“Our people might get killed,” says Heinz. “Even you.”

“There are always trade-offs, prices to pay. Let me provide an example. You love playing this game. But you put your game away when it is time to study. You give up some of what you want when you want something better.”

“That makes sense. I suppose when I grow up, I will have to make these kind of trade-offs all the time.”

Keith looks at his little brother. “I shall head back to my apartment. It means I spend less time qwith my baby brother, but it is something I must do.”

He puts on his shoes, leaves, and closes the door. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The United Nations Secretary General meets with her senior staff to discuss the attack on Walkure.

Galaxy City, located in the Sol system at the L4 point between Earth and its sun, is the capital of the United Earth Government. The United Nations General Assembly meets in this city, and the headquarters of the most important government departments are located in here as well.

The city is inside a huge space habitat, over fifty miles across. Seven hundred thousand people reside inside. Almost azll of them either work directly for the United Earth Government, or for someone who offers goods and services to the employees of the United Earth Government. The city p[rimarily draws itas p[ower from a reflex furhnace powered by protoculture, a substance whose properties are still not fully understood by anyone in the Milky Way Galaxy.

Inside one of the buildings, a woman named Nozawa Noriko finishes her breakfast, swallowing that last drop of orange juice. She takes a deep breath, and prepares for an important meeting.

Walking along a carpeted hallway, she meets a brown-haired man in his thirties, wearing a suit. An ID badge is clipped to his coat

“You ready?” asks the man.

“No, Glen,” replies Nozawa. “But we must do this.”

The two of them are joined by a woman in her late fifties, with black hair streaked with gray. She wears a gray suit.

“You okay, Noriko?” she asks.

“Not feeling my best, Marie,” she replies.

The three of them walk down the hallway. Nozawa Noriko feels the weight of the entire galaxy on her shoulders. It is part of her job, for she is the Secretary General of the United Nations, the head of state and principal executive officer for the United Earth Government.

They all walk into a conference room, seeing several people. One of them is an amber-complected, black-haired man in a white uniform consisting of a coat, trousers, a Mandarin-collared shirt. On his sleeves are one two-inch stripe and three one-inch stripes.

“Your Excellency,” says United Nations Ocean Patrol Admiral Chen Tzu, the Supreme Commander of the United Earth Forces.

“I must wonder why you advised that I order the Surgeon General to this meeting,” replies the Secretary General.

“Because the attack on Al Shahal is linked to one of his operations,” replies the admiral. 

Nozawa looks at a man very similarly dressed as Admiral Chen. The man has lighter skin, brown hair, a short-cropped brown beard, and a big nose shaped like a hook.

“Walkure was treating a Var syndrome outbreak in Shahal City,” says Dr. Benjamin Greenfeld, a vice admiral in the United Nations Galactic Health Service Commissioned Corps and the Surgeon General of the United Nations. “They came under attack.”

“Who would attack people trying to treat an epidemic?” asks Nozawa.

“Madam Secretary, it is best to hear from the people directly in charge,” says Chen.

“I’ll bring them online,” says a staff assistant.

Soon, holograms appear. One of the is that of a dark-haired man in a green uniform consisting of a tunic and trousers. Ribbons on his chest tell the story of his service. There are one set of four stars on each shoulder.

“Madam Secretary,” says the man appearing as the holographic image. “I am General T.R. Andrews, United Nations Army, commander of the Robotech Defense Forces Command.”

There is another holographic image, that of a woman with brown hair, in a uniform similar to that worn by Chen and Greenfeld, except colored olive-green.

“Your Excellency,” continues General Andrews, “I introduce Lieutenant General Ursula Obrycka, United Nations Space Marines. She has command of the Military Assistance Command, Brisingr Globular Cluster. She can debrief us on the events on and around the Planet Al Shahal.”

“General Obrycka,” says Secretary General Nozawa, “if you will.”

“Yes, ma’am,” answers the Space Marine general. “At around 1730 Shahal City time yesterday, an outbreak of Var syndrome was reported. The tactical sound unit Super Dimension Venus Walkure responded, with support from the Xaos Corporation ship _Aether_. At that same time, unknown assailants attacked the defensive flotilla around Al Shahal. Several ships, including the lead carrier _Agrama_, were destroyed. By the time reinforcements defolded around Al Shahal, these assailants were gone.”

“Do we have any data on the assailants?” asks Admiral Chen.

“Some of the surviving ships, and the _Aether_, gathered data, including video recordings and still images,” answers Obrycka. “They were uploaded into the E.V.E. system.”

“Let us hear from the E.V.E. herself,” says the Secretary General.

Images of the enemy fighter spacecraft appear. A hologram of a teal-haired woman speaks.

“These fighter craft appear to be of a modern design,” says the E.V.E. “they are not the Alphas and Betas from the last war. There are no markings on the ship.”

“Could this have been done by the Haydonites?” asks Nozawa.

“At this time, there is no evidence of Haydonite involvement,” answers the computer system. 

The Haydonites’ betrayal of the United Nations is far from forgotten, even after twenty-three years.

“Nevertheless,” says the Supreme Commander, “I have ordered Expeditionary Command to double the size of the Overwatch Division Fleet, and to double efforts in intercepting communications to and from Haydon IV.”

“Let us review what Var syndrome is, and how Walkure treats it,” says Secretary General Nozawa.

“Yes, ma’am,” replies the Surgeon General. “Var syndrome is an outbreak of madness. Those affected violently attack everything around them like a berserker. It was first discovered on the planet Alfheim about four years ago. It has spread throughout the Brisingr Globular Cluster. It was discovered that fold waves from live music can suppress the systems. The Galactic Health Service, acting in concert with the Xaos Corporation, organized the tactical sound unit Super Dimension Venus Walkure, composed of singers who can generate these fold waves.”

“Thank you, Dr. Greenfeld,” replies the Secretary General.

“There is still the fact that some unknown party is targeting Walkure,” says Chen. “General Andrews, Walkure will need backup.”

“I will consult with Defense Fleet Command if we can spare a ship, sir,” answers Andrews.

“Very well then,” says Secretary General Nozawa. “You all have your orders. I will need travel arrangements to Al Shahal.”

Oooooooo

Hayate Immelman stirs awake. His memory of the events of last night are still cloudy. He glances at an electronic alarm clock. It is 7:50 in the morning.

He only wakes up this late if he does not have work in the morning.

He then remembers that as of now, he is unemployed.

_Time to go looking for another job. _

He walks to the small living room of his apartment and sees a red-haired girl, covered in a blanket.

That is Freyja Wion!

She is still sleeping.

Hayate sits down on a chair in front of a small desk. He turns on a laptop computer and browses the Internet.

Practically all of the news articles are about the recent Var syndrome outbreak on al Shahal, and the mysterious attack against Walkure. It has already been called the deadliest outbreak of Var syndrome in history. Secretary General Nozawa had issued a statement vowing to find those responsible. Another news article is about the servicemen who were killed in the battle above Al Shahal.

He then checks his e-mails, browsing the Junk Mail folder for any e-mails that should have ended up in his inbox.

He sees an e-mail from one Arad Mulder. Moving the e-mail to the Inbox, he opens it.

It clearly is from Wing Commander Arad Mulder of the Xaos Corporation’s Delta veritech fighter team.

Mulder is inviting him for a job interview at the Ragna branch office, even offering travel and hotel arrangements.

“Good morning,” says Freyja. Hayate turns and sees that the girl is awake.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Fine,” she replies. “I hope to get going to Ragna for the auditions.”

“Auditions?”

“For Walkure. I want to try out for the band.”

Hayate checks the Internet. Soon enough, there is a web page from Walkure about the auditions being held in Barretteburg, Planet Ragna.

“I hope you don’t mind if I east breakfast,” says Freyja. “after that, I have to make my way to Ragna.”

“Let me guess,” says Hayate. “You don’t have much money.”

“Why would you guess that?”

“You stowed away on a cargo ship. You’re lucky I found you, and not someone whose first instinct would have been to call the cops. Now, maybe there is a way I can help you get to Ragna without you having to stow away on a cargo ship, if you can tell me exactly why you stowed away in the first place to travel to Al Shahal.”

“I had no intention of going to this specific planet,” answers Freyja. “I am from the planet Windermere IV. I ran away because I was about to be married.”

“You didn’t like the guy so you left your planet?”

“My family arranged it. I was from one of the noble houses, House Wion.”

Hayate once again looks up information on Windermere IV. “Looks like the planet is not far from here, inside the Cluster. It was colonized by people from Tirol just before Lord Zor invented the protoculture matrix and robotechnology.”

“The Brisingr Globular Cluster has the highest concentration of habitable worlds within one hundred light year diameter. People from Tirol went on a colonization spree, setting up colonies on as many habitable worlds as they can find, including the colony that became the Kingdom of the Wind.”

“You know your stuff.”

“I’ve an expensive education.”

Hayate types and clicks on his laptop. “Listen, the wing commander of Delta Team invited me to interview for an open position as a veritech pilot,” he says.

“Great,” replies Freyja. “You managed to score an interview just one day after you lost your job.”

“The interview is at the Xaos offices in Barretteburg, the same place where the auditions for Walkure are taking place. I should be able to make travel arrangements so we can get there together.”

“You’re doing this for me?”

“Don’t think we’re becoming life partners or something. After we reach Barretteburg and you report for the audition, you are on your own.”

Freyja is excited. Her dream of singing in Walkure seems within her grasp, as inevitable as a sunrise.

Oooooooo

Shahal City Spaceport is bustling with activity again, omnly two days after the worst recorded Var syndrome outbreak. Security is tightened.

Hayate Immelman and Freyja Wion arrive at the spaceport. But thwey dol not go to the passenger terminals unlike the thousands coming here to leave the planet. Instead, they go to the Xaos Corporation cargo terminal. Immelman noted with irony that it neighbors the Trans Galactic cargo terminal.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Immelman,” says this purple-haired moustachioed man. “Ragna Branch Division told us to expect you.”

“That’s right,” replies Hayate.

“And this must be Miss Wion.”

“Yes,” replies Freyja.

The two of them enter the cabin of the cargo ship. Even now, cargo containers are still being loaded. The two of them quickly find some seats for passengers.

They feel heavy as the cargo ship lifts off, the acceleration acting like gravity.

“Much better than hiding in a container full of apples,” says Freyja.

The ship continues to rise in the atmosphere of Al Shahal. It is not long before the atompshere thins out into the blackness of near vacuum.

A voice over the speaker says, “Prepare for hyperspace folds to Ragna in thirty seconds.”

Both Hayate and Freyja remain silent. Soon, there are multicolored lights and screaming, the symptoms of the transition into hyperspace.

A light engulfs the cargo ship, and the fold drives, powered by the ship’s reflex furnace, folds the ship into hyperspace.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hayate interviews with Wing Commander Mulder

“Prepare for hyperspace defold ,” says a voice over the speaker inside the passenger cabin of the cargo ship.

Again, there are multicolored lights and screaming before it stops. The ship returns to real space.

Near the ship is a blue ball, a planet. The ship’s auto navigation system steers the ship, using its thrusters, towards the planet, changing its velocity so that it will be captured by the planet’s gravitational well.

It then starts the descent into the atmosphere, using the barrier system to dissipate the heat due to friction. Inside the cabin, Hayate Immelman and Freyja Wion can hear the loud roar made by the ship passing through increasingly thicker atmosphere.

Soon the ship is only maybe six thousand feet above the ocean. It flies above the urban expanse of Barretteburg. Soon, its crew activates maneuvering thrusters, setting it down on an airfield that also serves as the headquarters of the Ragna Branch of the Xaos Corporation.

“We have arrived at the Xaos Ragna airfield,” says the pilot. “Welcome to Planet Ragna.”

Hayate and Freyja walk down on a ramp, finally setting their feet on the surface of Ragna. They can see the some stars in the night sky. A blond haired woman, wearing a suit, approaches them.

“You must be Hayate Immelman,” she says.

“Yeah.”

“Kelly Winter, concierge.” Hayate looks at the badge she is wearing, which has her picture, the Xaos Corporation logo, and her name. “I understand you have an interview with Wing Commander Mulder tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“We have a shuttle that can take you to a hotel. It’s for VIP guests. You know, the wing commander must have a lot of faith to make these travel arrangements.” Kelly then looks at Freyja. “And you’re the girl Freyja who will audition here tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll take you to the hotel. You both have two nights, and there is a scheduled cargo ship back to Al Shahal leaving that day.”

Kelly hands the two guests business cards.

Hayate and Freyja board a van, which then drives along an airfield and leaves through a gate. It is not even ten minutes before the van reaches a Hyatt Hotel.

Freyja looks around on the inside. She had never stayed at a hotel before; her family had a penthouse in the Windermerean royal capital, other than their home. She walks to a green-haired lady sitting behind the desk.

“Xaos told us about you, Miss Wion,” says the lady.

After receiving her room key, Freyja goes to the eleventh floor and walks down the hallway. She uses the card key to unlock the door and enters.

It is a large room with a bed and a television and a desk. Using the remote control, she turns on the television.

She sees a video of a ship, followed by people in a smoke filled corridor. They are coughing due to the smoke.

Then, some uniformed people in gas masks enter.

“This is the U.N. Spacy,” one of them says. “We’re here to help.”

The scene shifts to the passengers receiving medical treatment in a sick bay with all sorts of medical equipment, as doctors in white coats and nurses in blue overalls tend to them. The last image is that of a huge ship, right next to the damaged ship still spewing smoke and fire.

“The U.N. Spacy,” says a voice. “We’re here to help the galaxy.”

The girl soon goes to sleep.

Ooooooooo

Hayate and Fereyja step out of the van, having had breakfast at the Hyatt, and already there is a crowd of people here. They are all lined up, reaching through the doors of a tall tower, which is the headquarters for the Ragna branch of Xaos.

“Okay, everyone!” yells a staffer in a blue shirt with an ID badge clipped to it, “All applicants for Walkure line up.”

“I guess this is it,” says Freyja.

“I’m here to see you fail,” replies Hayate, wearing polished black dress shoes, blue dress trousers, a white collared shirt, a blue necktie around the collar, and a blue coat over his white shirt, which he had brought in a garment bag all the way from Planet Al Shahal.

“Fail?”

  
“Tough competition out there. But at least you got a free trip to another planet. Me, I have an interview with Wing Commander Mulder. After this is over, we’ll meet back at the hotel.”

Hayate walks past the girls and women lining up for the audition. The lobby is huge, with all sorts of sofas and tables. Some of the applicants for Walkure sit down, while a desk with at least ten receptionists process the idol singer applicants.

Hayate walks to a side desk. There are some girls who quickly leave, having been told that the other desk is where they register. Hayate finally reaches the receptionist.

“How may we help you?” asks a dark-haired woman.

“Hayate Immelman,” he says. “I’m applying for the Delta veritech team and I need to speak with Wing Commander Arad Mulder.”

The lady makes a phone call.

“Mr. Immelman,” she says. “I will get Wing Commander Mulder.”

After maybe five minutes, a door at the right side of the lobby opens. Hayate instantly recognizes the Delta team wing commander, with his goatee. Mulder is wearing a black suit with an ID badfge clipped to his coat.

“Hayate Immelman,” says the veritech pilot. “Follow me.”

Hayate glances at the entrance to the lobby, seeing Freyja just right at the door. The teen then follows Wing Commander Mulder through some carpeted white-walled hallways. They ride an elevator maybe twelve stories up. They emerge onto another carpeted hallway, passing by several staffers. Hayate figures out the office is busy due to the auditions for Walkure.

Soon, they pass through a large office with several desks and cubicles and other sorts of office equipment, and then enter an office located at the corner of the building.

Hayate notices tow people. One is a man appearing to be in his mid-twenties with black hair and fair skin, wearing a black suit similar to that of Arad Mulder. The other is a woman appearing to be in her late thirties, with black hair and brown skin, wearing a collared khaki shirt with ribbons and pins.

“Allow me to introduce Squadron Leader Messer Oilfield, my second-in-command,” says the wing commander, sitting behind the wooden desk, “and Dr. Naomi Singh, our medical consultant.”

“Hello there,” says Hayate, extending his hand. He then looks at the doctor, noting her khaki uniform with the medals and decorations. “You’re in the Spacy?”

“I was five years ago,” says Singh. “I’m in the United Nations Galactic Health Service Commissioned Corps, acting as liaison to Walkure and Delta Team on behalf of the United Nations Surgeon General. Our uniforms are similar to the Spacy.”

“That silver leaf on your collar says you’re a commander,” replies the teen. “I never heard of the Health Commissioned Corps though. My dad might have heard of the Health Corps; he’s a Space Marine and a brigadier general.”

“Tell me about yourself, Mr. Immelman,” says Mulder.

“I left home over a year ago and drifted around the galaxy, doing odd jobs,” says Hayate. “I learned how to operate a Workroid for this shipping company on Eden colony, and had that job for three months before it went belly-up. I then got to work for Trans Galactic and I was there for six months until just two days ago. Now I have read about Walkure, and Delta team. I know that Walkure has a contract with Xaos for support services, and Delta Team is the veritech fighter unit assigned to back up Walkure, especially when they go out to treat Var syndrome outbreaks.”

“Impressive, Mr. Immelman,” says Oilfield, the tone of his voice chilly.

“I read the web site the day I left Al Shahal.”

“You will still have a lot to learn,” says the squadron leader.

“I want to know more about you, sir,” Hayate says to Wing Commander Mulder. “If I take this job, I’m going to need to know more about the man who will be my commanding officer.”

“Well, I graduated from the United Earth Forces Academy in Samsun,” replies the wing commander. “That’s on Earth. I had V-School training on Tirol during the summer breaks, and then I was commissioned in the United Nations Space Marines. I served for six years. The Space Marines were too uptight for me, and my prospects for promotion were not looking too good, so when I found out about the opportunity from Xaos, I signed up.”

“What was it like being a veritech pilot in the Space Marines? I mean, the U.N. hasn’t had a war since before I was born.”

“It was mostly training. I did fly a few counter-piracy missions. My old commanders flew against both the Invid and the Haydonites in the last Robotech war.”

Hayate nods. He had been taught about the Robotech Wars in school, a series of interstellar wars spanning over three decades over the control of the supply of protoculture, the power source behind robotechnology. His own father had fought in these Robotech Wars just eight years before Hayate was born.

“Your record show that you keep moving around on various planets and space habitats,” says Squadron Leader Oilfield. “You may be able to dance in a battloid, but to actually fly a veritech, that’s different. This is a waste of time.”

“Oh really,” retorts Hayate. “You asked me to come here. You reserved a cargo ship for me. You paid for my hotel room for two nights. How much money did that cost? I’m certain you are not in the habit of wasting your boss’s money; otherwise, you would not be working here for long.”

“Perhaps we should take this meeting elsewhere,” says Mulder.

“Walkure should be having their auditions soon,” says Dr. Singh. “I shall meet with them.”

oooooooooo

After a long time, Freyja Wion finally reaches the desk.

“I’m Freyja Wion,” she says to the lady at the desk. “I’m here for the audition.”

The woman types on the keyboard of her desktop computer. “I’m sorry, Miss Wion, there’s no record of you being here.”

“I was invited to come here to audition,” protests Freyja. “Xaos even paid for a hotel room for me.”

“I’m trying all spelling variations, Miss Wion, but you just are not showing up in the preliminaries.”

“Preliminaries?”

“Yes, this is the final round; there were preliminary auditions. Everyone here has already passed the preliminaries. I’m looking at the list of applicants who passed the preliminaries. If you didn’t pass the preliminaries, you can’t audition.”

Freyja’s eyes grow wide.

Her dreams seem to have been snatched from her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freyja has her audition with Walkure. But danger awaits...

Hayate Immelman looks impressed upon seeing the purple-trimmed veritech fighter in the hangar. Wing Commander Arad Mulder and Squadron Leader Messer Oilfield had escorted the teen out of the main building towards the hangars, walking many yards across the tarmac of the airfield serving as the headquarters of Xaos’s Brisingr Globular Cluster operations.

“This is where we store our veritechs when we’re not deployed in space,” says the wing commander. “Listen, this is far different than operating a workroid. In a veritech fighter plane, if you fall, you die. That is the way of those who have tasted the wind. You have tasted the wind, young Hayate. Are you willing to risk your life?”

Hayate looks at the wing commander. “I’m not into the military,” he says.

“Neither am I,” replies Mulder.

“And I hate taking orders. So I’ll fly my own way.”

“Feel free to do so.”

“Commander Mulder?” asks Oilfield.

“Hayate Immelman, the job is yours.”

“Then I take it.”

“You’re hired,” says Wing Commander Arad Mulder.

Hayate places his hand on a purple veritech fighter resting on its landing gears.

“I can’t wait until I fly this baby,” he says, his voice beaming out like a little boy in a theme park.

“That baby is mine.”

Hayate looks and sees a woman in a flight suit; she has purple hair.

That is the same pilot who confrfonted him on Al Shahal.

“Get your hands off!” she demands.

“I guess we’re co-workers now.”

He looks at the plane, seeing **F/O MIRAGE STERLING “BUCKEYE”** stenciled below the canopy.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Arad,” says Squadron Leader Oilfield. “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll really miss working for you.”

Oooooooo

Freyja Wion recalls the time, which already seems so long ago, when she snuck out of her family’s estate in the middle of the night. Somehow, despite hitching rides, and without ending up held captive in a creepy pervert’s dungeon, she made her way to the spaceport, hiding in a container full of Galactic Apples. She had reached another world, and was found by Hayate Immelman, who snuck her out of the spaceport instead of turning her over to the police.

Then came the Var syndrome outbreak, her singing along with Walkure, and Hayate operating a veritech.

And then hearing that she was invited to audition for Walkure, with Xaos paying for her transport and hotel room!

And now she is being told she can not even try out, because it is already the finals?

Who screwed this up?

Why invite her all the way here, just to be told she can not even demonstrate her talents to the band.

“This was my dream!” she cries. “Why?”

“Wait,” says another lady sitting at the reception desk. “It seems Freyja Wion has special permission to directly go into the final audition.”

“Our apologies, Miss Wion,” says the receptionist.

Freyja’s eyes widen. She steels herself and walks towards the back of the room. She walks along a hallway and enters a large room. Many girls and women are already sitting down; Freyja takes an empty seat.

Someone then emerges from a door in the back of the room.

That someone happens to be a very tall, green man. He wears a peaked cap, a white collared shirt, a black necktie around the collar, a long coat, trousers, and dress shoes. The man stands at least seven feet!

“Hello there,” the man says to all the ladies auditioning for the band. “I am Ernest Johnson, captain of the Xaos Corporation’s Ragna fleet flagship _Aether_. My ship and I provide support for Walkure, and we of course will consult with the band.”

A woman with red hair wearing flashy clothes enters the room from the same door that the captain used. Many of the ladies already cheer.

“Kaname Buccaneer,” she says. “I am the leader the Super Dimension Leader Walkure, but you already knew that. You are all finalists for the open position we have at Walkure, but only one of you can be our newest member. I will say this. We are not an ordinary band that plays in dive bars and county fairs. We sing out in the field, among hordes of people infected with Var. We put our lives on the line. So if you would rather sing in a safe environment, the exit is in the front of this room.”

Several girls leave the room, one of them running as fast as her feet could take her. Office staffers start handing out bracelets to the candidates, with almost all of them, including Freyja, wondering what it is for.

They all go into a giant dressing room with so many benches and mirrors. The girls’ hearts race and they prep themselves for an audition that could change their lives.

Elsewhere in control room with many monitor consoles, Dr. Singh and three of the Walkure members watch the candidates.

“That’s her!” yells Makina.

“Time to show them the spirit of the wind,” they hear Freyja say.

And so the candidates audition.

They dance, making sure to push their bodies to the limit.

They sing, pouring their feelings out.

The bracelets they wear record various biological measurements, inclujding fold receptor activity.

“Four of them are qualified,” says Reina, looking at the holographic display.

“What about that one?” asks Makina.

Dr. Naomi Singh looks at the readout, seeing the image of the red-haired girl and the measurement of her fold receptor.

“It’s lower than average,” replies the Galactic Health Service Commissioned Corps commander. “Are you sure that is the one?”

“It has to be,” says Mikumo. “I felt her singing reinforce me on Al Shahal!”

“She could be nervous,” says Makina.

“Your newest member will have to be able to perform under much more stressful conditions than an ordinary concert,” says Singh.

Inside the booth, Freyja still sings her heart out.

She did not come all this way just to do a half-assed job.

Finally, she is done.

Ooooooooo

It is near the end of the day. All of the ladies who had auditioned have come back.

Kaname Buccaneer, Ernest Johnson, and Naomi Singh appear before them.

“Hello everyone,” says Kaname.

The candidates’ hearts race. All ofn them have felt that they gave their all.

“Everyone has…..failed,” says the Walkure leader. “Thank you all for your time.”

Then sadness and confusion.

Ooooooooooo

“I heard everyone failed,” says Kelly winter, the concierge for the Xaos Ragna office.

“Yeah,” replies Freyja, not feeling much like talking.

“Well, maybe you can try out for another band.”

“How did it go?” asks Hayate, walking into the lobby.

“I failed,” answers Freyja. “No one was picked.”

“I…I kind of understand.”

“Your van should take you back to your hotel. After that, we can pikc you up and take you back here for your flight to Shala City.”

Soon, the van arrives near the front door to the office building. Freyja and Hayate walk in.

“You know,” says Hayate, “I got the job.”

“Really?” ask Freyja.

“yeah.”

“Well, at least one of us succeeded.”

“Maybe I can treat you to dinner at the hotel. Then tomorrow morning, I go back to Al Shahal to grab my things.”

“Thanks.”

The van soon arrives at the lobby of the Hyatt hotel. The two of them walk in to the reception area. There are already plenty of people inside, as if thety are checking in.

Hayate glances and sees a man doubled over in pain. He is about to walk over and ask if the man in alright. A bespectacled woman gets to the suffering man first.

She screams.

The man tackles her and there is a spray of blood.

Many of the people in the hotel scream.

The man turns around, with a mad look in his eyes and the veins in his face look like thety are bulging out.

“It’s the Var!” a lady yells.

The man rushes towards Freyja, and she falls as she tries to back away.

Hayate runs and tries to restrain the man.

Feryja looks and can see that Hayate is struggling to restrain this infected man.

Memories of that battle in Shahal City resurface.

Memories of the Var outbreak, of the chaos caused by the infected Bioroid pilots, of singing with Walkure surface.

She looks into Hayate’s eyes, seeing the losing struggle.

She can only do one thing.

Sing.

She sings softly.

She sings to calm the infected man down.

Hayate does not feel the man struggling as hard.

“Wha…what happened?” asks the man.

“You had a Var outbreak,” answers Hayate. “We’d better get you to a hospital.”

Freyja stops singing. She looks at the man for any sign of the Var syndrome returning.

A bespectacled woman with black hair and a ponytail runs up to Freyja.

“Are you all right?” she asks.

“Yes,” replies Freyja.

“Then I welcome you to…Walkure World.”

“Your voice..”

A light surrounds the woman and two others. Their clothes become flashier, their hair changes color.

They are Mikumo Guynemer, Makina Nakajima, and Reina Prowler!

“What is going on?” she asks.

“It’s the final audition,” says Mikumo, “and you’ve passed. You’re in Walkure, now.”

“This was staged?” asks Hayate.

“you got that right,” says the woman who had been attacked by the man, holding a red bag. “Fake blood.”

The “Var-infected” man removes the rubber mask from his head. “I sure did great. You know, I’m an expert in jujitsu; I was only pretendin’ to be strugglin’ against you. I could have tossed you like a rag doll any time.”

“The hotel made quite a bit of money,” says a man in a suit, who apparently is a manager here. “At least the boss will be happy.”

Hayate looks into Freyja’s eyes. “There’s still the matter of dinner,” says the teen. “Only it will be a celebration dinner, not a consolation dinner.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freyja and Hayate settle into their new careers- and lives- on Planet Ragna

It is early morning in the outskirts of Barretteburg. Many of the houses have large front yards and driveways, set back from the street. Trees lining the street provide shade. It is a quiet neioghbiorhood, not like the bustling downtown.

Inside one of the houses, Naomi Singh fastens the last button on her service khaki shirt. She makes sure that her rank and service insignia and her service ribbons are all in order.

“Another day at work?” asks her husband, Barry Wu.

“Yes, dear,” replies the Galactic Health Service Commissioned Corps commander.

Three children approach her, all with black hair like their parents, all dressed in their pajamas.

“Today is a special day for Mommy,” Naomi says to her children.

“What?” asks her youngest, a four-year-old boy.

“Walkure has a new member,” she says.

“Great!” yells her oldest, an eight-year-old girl. “I wanna listen to that new girl!”

“Maybe you will,” replies her mother. She knows her eight-year-old is old enough to understand THAT Walkure sings to heal people who are sick with Var syndrome.

She looks at her huasband, a man with black hair, brown hair, and amber complected skin. She kisses him, her heart beating a little faster as she does .

“Have a great day,” she says. “Love you.”

“I know,” replies Barry.

Naomi then hugs her children. She can never forget the days that she gave birth to each of them.

“You all be good, okay? Mommy loves you.”

“Yes,” they all reply.

The commander gets into the car and drives off. A morning show plays on the radio, playing music and mentioning between two of the songs that Walkure had hired a new singer, Freyja Wion. It takes the typical thirty minutes for her to reach her parking spot at the Xaos Airfield in Barretteburg.

Dr. Naomi Singh gets out of the car and enters through a side entrance using her contractor badge, which has her picture on it. She passes by a few familiar faces, having worked here since Walkure was formed. After riding an elevator, she arrives at her private office.

It is a typical office, with a desk and some chairs. A desktop computer sits at the desk. On a table in the corner is a printer- a privilege of someone with her job. She quickly logs in and reads her e-mails.

She then activates a holographic communications system. Several holograms of people in white uniforms appear. She recognizes one of them as Dr. Benjamin Greenfeld, the United Nations Surgeon General.

“Dr. Singh,” says the Surgeon General. “Good morning, is it?”

“Yes, it’s morning here,” replies Singh.

“We got the message about Walkure getting as new singer.”

“Yes, sir,” replies the commander. “Her name is Freyja Wion, from Windermere IV. She was recruited last night. As you can all see in the reports, her fold receptor readings are higher than most people, even the other singers.”

“So she has the talent,” replies Greenfeld. “Whether or not she performs well is another matter.”

“Is there anything else, sir?”

“I’ll call or send you an e-mail if I need anything, Dr. Singh. Just keep me updated.”

“Yes, sir,” replies Dr. Singh.

Ooooooooo

Freyja Wion could hardly believe it.

She is in Walkure.

Her heart still feels so light after last night, when she heard the news from Mikumo.

Hayate had earlier boarded a cargo ship to take him back to Al Shahal, so he can pick up his belongings and move to Ragna. Freyja, by contrast, can move into her new quarters right away.

Her quarters are in a two-level house not far from the airfield. She enters the house. The exterior windows are shaped like a rectangle with a circle on top. Stepping inside, Freyja sees the main room has a central rectangular depression surrounded by a decorative wooden railing. Inside the depression are some chairs. The room is large enough that white support pillars hold up the ceiling. At one side above the central depression is a dining table.

“Wow, this place is fit for nobility,” she says.

“Well, Walkure does make quite a bit of money from record sales,” says Kaname. “Anyway, you can live here. Reina and Makina have their own place, and Mikumo has her own place.”

Some sort of gray-and-pink striped creature moves along the floor. It has fins in the rear, and two legs with paws in the front. Its ears are pointed.

A purple-haired woman walks out. She wears a long T-shirt, and has a towel around her neck.

Freyja recognizes her from that battle in Shahal City!

“Wait,” she says. “You’re that veritech pilot from Iowa.”

“Iowa?” asks the purple-haired lady. “Well, in galactic terms, that’s ….close. I’m from Ohio.”

“Ohio,” repeats Freyja.

“It’s a region on the planet Earth.”

“Yes, Earth. The homeworld of humanity. Lord Zor’s lost space yacht crashed on Earth and was found about seventy years ago, as you measure time. It also brought robotechnology to Earth, paving the way for people there to become a player in interstellar politics, and actually annex the former colonies of the Robotech Masters.”

“You’re well-read.”

“It’s part of a noble girl’s education.”

“Well, my name is Mirage,” she says. “And now that you live here, Freyja Wion, there are some rules. We take turns taking out the trash, washing dishes, buying groceries, vacuuming the floor, doing the laundry, and taking care of Querule.”

“Wow,” says Freyja. “That’s a lot to remember.”

“And I will make sure you remember these rules.”

“Freyja,” says Kaname, “we’ll need you to sign paperwork and take you to your first briefing.”

Mirage looks as Freyja and Kaname leave the house.

Oooooooo

“A lot of paperwork,” says Freyja, signing the last of the forms inside Walkure’s offices.

“It does detail your compensation, plus all sorts of legal stuff,” says Kaname. “I’ll explain more what Walkure is. We are technically a co-op LLC and you are our newest member.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s complicated and I don’t have time to explain. But we are not employed, neither by Xaos Corporation nor the United Nations Galactic Health Service. But we do have to deliver, or else they will not renew our contract.

“Now let me tell you the origins of Walkure. Var syndrome was first identified four years ago, after a riot at a college football game. Outbreaks continued to increase. I myself was playing at a county fair on this very planet, about rthree years ago and maybe a few hundred klicks from Barretteburg, when Var broke out at the fair. People noticed that when the infected got within range of my singing, they calmed down.

“I was a struggling singer who had to wait tables late at night to pay the bills. I was contacted by the Galactic Health Service. I volunteered for examinations. With what they were paying me, I had to say yes. They discovered bio fold waves generated by my singing.”

“What’s that?” asks Freyja.

“Apparently, when people like me sing, we generate these ripples through hyperspace called fold waves. And somehow, they calm the symptoms of Var syndrome. The Health Service went to look for more singers. Within months, we formed the tactical sound unit Walkure. The Health Service recruited Xaos corporation to provide necessary transport and other services to support our mission.”

“I guess these fold waves are why live performances are needed; you can’t just broadcast a recording.”

“Correct.”

“So why not create dozens of bands?”

“So few people have this ability,” says Kaname. “Not just to generate fold waves, but to actually survive in dangerous situations. Var outbreaks are deadly. Xaos organized a veritech fighter team to protect us.”

“We should introduce ourselves to you,” says Mikumo. “I am Mikumo.”

“I am Reina,” says this green-haired lady.

“I am Makina,” says this red-haired lady.

“Yes, we have three redheads now,” says Kaname.

“Yeah, but yours is a darker red,” replies Freyja.

“Is this the new band member?” Freyja hears.

She turns and sees someone wearing some sort of brown uniform with these colored recrtangles pinned to the left side of her shirt.

“Dr. Naomi Singh, the Surgeon General’s liaison with Walkure,” she says.

“Freyja Wion, Walkure’s newest member,” replies Freyja. “Looks like we’ll be working together.”

Oooooo

“This is where the boys will live,” says Flight Lieutenant Chuck Mustang.

The flight lieutenant had greeted Cadet Hayate Immelman upon the latter’s return to Planet Ragna in the early evening. He is a large man with brown hair and light brown skin, his callsign is “Chef”. He drove the teen out of the airfield and along the streets leading to Barretteburg’s waterfront. After parking the car in a monthly parking lot, Chuck led Hayate to the waterfront, where many buildings sit right by the water. 

Hayate looks at the building, which has some Chinese writing on it. There is an English sign reading “Ragnyanyan”. Adjacent to the building is a patio where people are eating dinner.

“This looks like a restaurant,” says Hayate.

“It is a Chinese-Ragnan fusion restaurant,” replies Chuck. “My family owns it.”

Three kids wave at Chuck. He greets them.

“Apartments are upstairs,” says Chef.

Suddenly, some creature jum,ps and grabs a fish off the table of a customer. A blond-haired waitress yells.

Chuck and his brothers try to intercept the creature, but it knocks them down before jumping into the water.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Hayate turns and sees none other than Squadron Leader Messer Oilfield, wearing much more casual clothes.

“Hi, Messer,” says the blond-haired waitress. “Welcome home.”

“Home?” asks hayate. “We’re roommates?’

“Yes,” replies the squadron leader. “Don’t stay up too late. You need to report early tomorrow morning for processing.”

Chuck leads Hayate to the upstairs apartment. The only thing in his room is a small bed and a dresser.

Hayate is asleep well before ten minutes later.

Oooooo

“I hope you had a good night sleep, Immelman,” says Wing Commander Arad Mulder.

“Yeah,” says Hayate.

The two of them are inside a large office inside the office building,. There are many cubicles. People in business wear walk about, doing their morning tasks.

“Sit there,” commands Mulder.

Hayate sits at a cubicle, where there is a monitor screen, a keyboard, and mouse.

“What is this?” he asks.

“Company policy briefing,” says the wing commander. “You must go through this, or you will be fired by the end of the day.”

And so Hayate clocks a button on the screen to start the Xaos Corporation employee Policy Briefing. It covers so much stuff, including safety training and sexual harassment policy.

It takes just under an hour for him to finish.

At least that increases his chances of still having a job tomorrow.

A freckle-faced red-haired young lady approaches Delta Team’s newest recruit.

“I need to take your picture,” she says.

Hayate smiles as the lady takes his picture.

“Perfect,” she says. “Your picture ID should be here in three days.”

Hayate leaves the office, walking across the tarmac to where the Delta Team hangar is. His new teammates are all there.

“I take it the company briefing was not too boring,” says Wing Commander Mulder.

“Oh, no, of course not,” replies the new cadet.

“Can you handle the battlefield?” asks the purple-haired lady.

“I’m not here to handle the big guns,” says Hayate. “I just want to fly.”

“Then let’s fly.”

Ten minutes later, Hayate sits in the back seat of the purple-trimmed VF-31 Siegfried veritech fighter.

He does not feel so good.

After the plane lands, he gets out. The pressure in his stomach is rising.

He feels as if he is about to explode.

And the contents of his breakfast soon end up on the tarmac.

“I suppose I should formally introduce her,” says the wing commander. “Cadet Immelman, let me introduce Flying Officer Mirage Sterling, callsign Buckeye. She will be your instructor.”

“What?” asks Sterling.

“Flying Officer Sterling, I expect him to be in shape in a month.” Mulder turns around and leaves.

“Wing Commander,” calls out the flying officer. “Why not have Chef train him? He’s a flight lieutenant. He has more experience.”

“Don’t drag me into this, Flying Officer,” replies Chef.

She looks at her new student, who still feels sick.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hayate continues his training.

“Hayate Immelman!” calls out Xaos Corporation Delta Team Flying Officer Mirage Sterling. “Where are you?”

She stands at the balcony, looking down at the employee cafeteria where many of the employees get meals whenever they do not feel like buying food from the food trucks that regularly visit. The new cadet is a bit undisciplined.

She can not believe the responsibility laid on her. She is only a Flying Officer, just one grade above the lowest officer grade in Xaos Corporation’s combat aviation grade system. It is far different from the grade system used by the United Earth Forces, though she had once heard some of the U.N. member states used grades like wing commander and flying officer for combat aviators that serve in their militias. 

Mirage wonders if she should have asked for a raise, to at least be paid as much as the XO, Squadron Leader Messer Oilfield.

She walks along the hallways, not talking to anyone. Immelman is not taking his studies seriously. Mirage reflects briefly on her life. If she had not taken her studies seriously, she never would have been accepted into the United Earth Forces Academy’s basketball team, let alone the Academy itself.

As for the conclusion of her time at the Academy, she prefers to not dwell on it.

She finally reaches the hangars where the team’s VF-31 Siegfried veritech fighters are stored. If Immelman does not make it- well, she can just write him up.

“Uh, Flying Officer Sterling, ma’am,” she hears.

She turns and sees Cadet Hayate Immelman, in T-shirt and jeans, with the Xaos Corporation employee badge clipped to his shirt.

“You said we had to go fly, right ma’am?” he asks.

The flying officer had told the cadet to meet at the team’s office.

“Get geared up and let’s go,” she says.

Ooooo

Hayate Immelman steps up the ladder and into the cockpit of the training plane. From what he had been told, this was a copy of the VF-1 Valkyrie that had been used by the United Earth Forces in the first Robotech War nearly sixty years ago, the first war where people from Earth entered into a conflict over control over protoculture, though they had not known the enemy’s motivation at the time.

He activates the controls and taxis the veritech down the taxiway. He can see the office building, the Aether, and some smaller spacecraft in the distance.

“Buckeye to Newbie,” says Mirage. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I can be, Buckeye,” replies Hayate.

“This is Flying Officer Mirage Sterling, callsign Buckeye, ready for takeoff,” she says.

“Tower to Buckeye,” says an air traffic controller. “You are clear.”

Hayate can see Buckeye’s Valkyrie take off.

His veritech is right at the concrete runway.

He takes a deep breath.

“Cadet Hayate Immelman, callsign Newbie,” he says. “Ready for takeoff.”

His heart beats.

Tower does not seem to be responding.

“Newbie to Tower,” he says. “Anything wrong.”

“Tower to Newbie, you are cleared for takeoff,” says the traffic controller.

Hayate Immelman, also known as Newbie, pushes the throttle. The veritech’s landing tires roll faster as it gains speed.

The difference in air pressure between the top and bottom of the wing lifts the training machine up.

Hayate is in the air, riding the wind.

“Newbie is in the air,” he says.

“Glad you can join us,” says the flying officer. “Let us set course until we are over the ocean.”

Within minutes, the two Valkyries are over the ocean, miles from the shoreline of Barretteburg.

“Let us make a banked turn to the left,” says Buckceye. “Move the stick to the left, and depress the left pedal.

Newbie’s plane turns sharply to the left, nearly at ninety degrees.

“How was that?” he asks.

“You did not turn at all,” says Mirage. “You just banked. You need to depress the left foot pedal as well.”

“Oh, I see,” replies Hayate. “This is tougher than I thought.”

And so they continue the training, with Flying Officer Sterling giving instructions while Cadet Immelman does his best to follow the instructions.

Mirage’s path through the sky is smooth, while Hayate’s path is…a bit more rough. His Siegfried wobbles through the air.

“Come on, Newbie!” yells Buckeye. “Get it together!”

“This thing won’t let me fly the way I want to fly,” he cries in protest.

“If we let you do that, you’ll go splat in the ocean.”

“What?”

“Very well then.” Sterling presses a button on her console, shutting off support for Cadet Immelman’s trainer.

The VF-1 Valkyrie spins even more wildly. The cadet p[anics as he moves the control stick and presses on the foot pedals.

“This thing is like a wold horse!” yells Hayate.

“Stability is sacrificed to increase mobility,” replies Mirage. She prerasses a button to take back control. “get it now, Vomit Boy?”

“Hey, my callsign’s Newbie!” He then starts to vomit.

Minutes later, the automated landing system guides both Valkyries down to the tarmac of the Xaos Airfield.

Cadet Hayate Immelman steps down, wanting to get out of the sour-smelling flight suit.

ooooooooo

A United Nations Spacy Rockwell SC-51 Star Sparrow shuttle lands on the runway of the Xaos Airfield in Barretteburg. One hundred feet long and with a wingspan of one hundred feet, the shuttle is used for transport of small parties from orbit to surface. Historians would note that seventy years ago, spacecraft to transport small parties had been much larger, and consisted mostly of engine and fuel. Developments in robotechnology made such small shuttles possible.

Captain Ernest Johnson steps out of a car; he is dressed in his long coat, white-collared shirt, polished dress shoes on his feet, and a black necktie around his neck. Several people step out of the Star Sparrow. One of them is a man with black hair and amber complected skin. He wears khaki trousers, along-sleeved khaki shirt with service ribbons pinned to the left side of the chest, and a ballcap on his head with an image of a ship and the phrase **U.E.S. Anatole Leonard, HSRCV-60** embroidered on the front.

“Welcome to the Xaos Brisingr Headquarters,” says Johnson, introducing himself as captain of the _Aether_.

“Captain Ken Chae, United Nations Spacy,” answers the visitor. “I am captain of the _Ikazuchi_-class carrier _Leonard_. I am here on assignment from Defense Fleet Command to provide backup for Walkure’s operations.”

“An _Ikazuchi_-class vessel,” muses Johnson. “Rather antiquated compared to the _Hunter_-class.”

“Yeah, the _Leonard_ was built when I was, what, twelve years old? I was actually stationed on board the _Leonard_ during the Battle over Haydon IV.”

The Xaos captain looks at the service ribbons worn by Chae; he recognizes the ribbon awarded to those United Earth Forces servicemen who fought in the Battle over Haydon IV, the last battle of the last Robotech War- whether or not they survived.

“None of us could ever forget,” says Johnson.

“I would like a tour of the _Aether_,” says the captain of the _Leonard_. “I need to know what it’s capable of if my crew and I are going to escort it.”

And so Johnson personally escorts Chae and his entourage- which include a Space Marine lieutenant colonel- and walks up a moveable stairway to one of the entrances to the ship. The Aether is large- larger than the Brinsingr Headquarters building- but the ship is well- a ship- and often has to sortie out on deep space missions.

Chae and his people take a look as Captain Johnson points out the bridge, the flight deck where Delta Team takes off, the engineering section with the Reflex furnace and the auxiliary hydrogen fusion reactors.

“Thank you for this tour,” says Captain Chae. “If you want to tour the _Leonard_, just call. My staff or I will be more than happy to assist.”

“I have so much to do, Captain Chae. I wish I had time to take you and your senior staff on a tour of the city.”

“We captains hardly have our own time,” says Chae.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaname speaks with the leaders of Xaos and the Galactic Health Service about a proposal for a concert.

Exhausted after another day of training, Flying Officer Mirage Sterling enters her home. She looks at a sofa and finds Freyja Wion lying on her side, sleeping, clearly exhausted from rehearsing with Walkure. She then glances at Kaname Buccanner sitting on a desk in her bedroom, probably catching up on all the paperwork that goes with managing a band, especially one whose mission is to treat mass outbreaks of Var syndrome.

She feels a bit of frustration with Cadet Hayate Immelman, his frequently being late for instruction or not showing up at all. And she is supposed to put him into shape in only four weeks? Surely being able to dance in battloid mode does not translate into becoming a successful veritech pilot, right?

She always took studies seriously. Played basketball in high school, became a valedictorian, applied to and was accepted into the United Earth Forces Academy, into a slot reserved for persons stranded on Planet Earth during the Invid Occupation. Which was very technical, she was born just four months before the Battle of Reflex Point.

And when she was a cadet with Delta Team, she rose up to meet every demand by then-Flight Lieutenant Messer Oilfield- and there were very many great demands.

She walks to her bedroom, a simply furnished room with a bed and a desk and a chair. There is a laptop computer on her desk. She opens it and turns it on to check any e-mails, both work and personal.

The veritech pilot then opens an application program. A window appears.

An image of a bespectacled, green-haired man appears.

“Hi, Mirage,” he says.

“Hi, Dad,” replies Mirage.

“How’s life on Ragna?”

“Stressful. Delta Team hired this new guy, and I don’t think he’s up to it.”

“I’ve had that experience in the Bullfrogs, training guys that did not look like they’d make the cut.”

“That was different,” says Mirage. “Your Bullfrog team did not have a whole galaxy of potential recruits to pick from. and now I have to train this…this slacker. He doesn’t take his training seriously!”

A woman appears next to Mirage’s dad.

“Hi, Mom,” she says.

“Oh, Mirage,” she replies, “I hear your work’s stressful again.”

“Yea, have to train this newbie.”

“Well, I hear veritech training’s tough. What else do you do, dear?”

“Well, aside from relaxing, checking the Internet, I’m part of this neighborhood basketball league. Basketball blows off steam, you know.”

“Yeah, I knew that since you were little,” says her mom.

“Flying and basketball are your passions,” says her dad.

Suddenly, two girls in their mid-teens with green hair tied in a bun, who look alike, appear on the screen.

“Hi, Mirage,” they both say.

“Hi, Amber. Hi, Ashley,” says Mirage. “What have you been doing?”

“Well, we got dresses for our biggest brother’s wedding,” says Amber.

“Oh, I almost forgot about that,” replies their big sister. “I’ve just been so busy. I had better go get a dress.”

“You could probably afford somethin’ expensive ‘cause you’re a veritech pilot like Grandpa and Grandma and Aunt Maia was,” says Ashley.

“Sure. Well, it was great talking to you.”

“Goodbye,” they all say.

Ooooooooooo

Freyja Wion sings her heart out inside the studio. The studio is very simple, wioth soundproof walls and a window where Kaname can watch her. She wears a simple leotard instead of the more flashy clothes that she would be expected to wear during a live performance.

She gives her all.

She did not escape from Windermere just to slack off.

Kaname Buccanneer and Makina Nakajima monitor Freyja from an adjacent room, looking at holographic screens which show biometric data received from a bracelet Walkure’s newest singer is singing.

“Her fold receptor’s not active,” says Makina. “I wonder why.”

“they rely on her mental state,” replies Kaname. “On the battlefield, during periods of high stress, she pulls through.”

“So she only performs well under pressure.”

“Very high pressure, like what happened on Al Shahal, not just a mere concert,” says Kaname. “Anyway, I got to submit these readouts to Dr. Singh.”

Mikumo Guynemer walks into the room.

“She can’t see her feet,” says the Walkure lead singer. “she can’t fly if she can only see the sky.”

Ooooooo

Days later, Wing Commander Arad Mulder walks along the hallway inside the main building, with Kaname walking next to him, passing a few Xaos employees.

“How’s your new cadet?” asks the Walkure manager.

“He has such raw talent,” replies the wing commander. “But he lacks discipline. And your newest singer?”

“I feel we meet be reaching the limits of her performance ability.”

The two of them enter a conference room, whose centerpiece is a large table with some sort of transparent surface. Captain Ernest Johnson, Dr. Naomi Singh, and some executives are inside. This is an important meeting, as Mulder and Buccaneer wear business clothes, while Dr. Singh is wearing her Class “A:” Health Corps uniform- a white skirt that extends below the knee, polished black shoes, black dress socks, a white Mandarin-collared shiort, and a white coat with three one=-inch stripes at the end of each

Holographic images appear. Three of them are uniformed officials, while others wear business suits.

“Let us begin,” says an aquamarine-haired lady in a pink coat and skirt.

“Of course, Lady M,” replies the captain.

“Greetings,” says a bespectacled blond-haired man in serious clothing that is apparently his society’s equivalent of a business suit. “I am Oren Rebbet, His Majesty’s Minister of Public Health for the Kingdom of Randor.”

“Shall we begin, Dr. Greenfeld?” asks Lady M, the CEO of Xaos.

“Yes,” answers the U.N. Surgeon General. “We are meeting to set up a concert in Randor. What we know is that exposure to the bio-fold waves from a Walkure concert grants people temporary immunity, up to one year.”

“Much less painful than shots,” says Dr. Singh.

“The probability of a Var outbreak on Randor within a year is virtually certain,” says Rebbet. “Aside from the damage from the Var outbreak, it may impair the highest functions of His Majesty’s government. Our own Crown Prince and our Prime Minister will be in attendance of this concert, along with certain select ministers of the government. We can expedite preparation for the concert, but it will take some time.”

“Health Minister Rebbet,” says Johnson, “you must know of the attack against Walkure during the Var Symdrome outbreak on Al Shahal.”

“I am aware, Captain Johnson.”

“Captain Chae of the United Nations vessel _Leonard_,” says a man in a white uniform similar to that of Singh’s except with four one-inch stripes on each shoulder. “My ship was assigned to back up Walkure and the Xaos Corporation forces.”

“His Majesty will be grateful for your help, Captain Chae,” replies the Randorian health minister. “I am confident we can arrange the concert within two weeks.”

“Very well,” says Dr. Greenfeld.

“I have every bit of confidence in Captain Johnson,” says Lady M.

Oooooooo

Squadron Leader Messer Oilfield walks into Delta Team’s offices, having been summoned there by Wing Commander Mulder. Entering the office, he notices that Flying Officer Sterling is there inside with him.

“Any news, Wing Commander?” asks the squadron leader.

“Driller, Buckeye here has a proposal regarding our newbie, Cadet Immelman,” answers the wing commander. He looks at the flying officer. “What is your idea?”

“A mid-term exam,” replies the flying officer. “I need to know if further training can get him up to speed. If he does not pass, we let him go.”

“So you think we should fire him, Sterling?” asks Oilfield.

“I do not believe Cadet Immelman is fit for our team,” she replies. “But I want to make sure that he knows it.”

“So you are into fair play, then?”

“I have an idea for a midterm,” says Mulder. “Have Newbie in the office here first thing in the morning.”

OOOOO

“A midterm?” asks Cadet Hayate Immelman, standing inside Wing Commander Mulder’s office. “I haven’t had to worry about those since high school.”

“We need to know if you are on the right track, Immelman,” says Flying Officer Sterling. “You are not flying a tender shuttle or even a transport ship. You are flying a veritech fighter on the battlefield. Lives will depend on you.

You will engage in a live flight exam. If you fail this midterm, you are off the team.”

“What am I supposed to do, ma’am?”

“Study and practice.”

Squadron Leader Oilfield looks at the cadet. “I am working on preparations for your midterm exam, Cadet Immelman,” he says. “When you finish your exam, you will know whether or not you are fit for our team.”

“Yes, sir.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hayate duels Mirage as his mid-term exam. Will he stay on the team?
> 
> Or lose his job?

Hayate returns to his apartment above the Ragnanyanyan. He had another day of training with Sterling, hard training.

Tomorrow is the day.

The teen wonders if he should start submitting resumes for his next job already. There is so much to study.

He opens his laptop and turns it on, connecting to the Internet to briefly check on e-mails. The only news articles are about sports and local events, the Var outbreak on Al Shahal becoming a distant memory.

He opens a live chat app.

An image of man in his late forties appears. He has blue hair, and faint creases on his forehead.

“Hayate,” says the man.

“Hi, Dad,” replies Hayate. “How are things in Galaxy City?”

“Things have calmed down a bit in Space Marine Headquarters ever since the al Shahal incident,” answers his dad. “Any news on your job?

“They’re having me take this midterm exam. If I fail, I’m off the team.”

“I’m not surprised,” says his father. “I have been told that V-School is tough; they fail eighty percent of candidates.”

“Yeah, I understand. I’ve been cramming for this exam.”

“How is life in Ragna?”

“It’s great,” replies the teen. “I live above the restaurant owned by the family of one of my wingmates, I get one free meal a day if it’s under twenty bucks. There a a couple of places in downtown Barretteburg; it actually used to be a colony clamshell that was landed here maybe around the time I was born. Anyway, I need to rest up for tomorrow’s exam.”

“Yeah, you’d better get some sleep.”

Hayate hangs up the connection. He gets into his pajamas and lies down on his bed.

He feels nervous, nervous about tomorrow.

He has trouble sleeping.

ooooooo

Early next morning, the mechanics of Delta Team prepare the VF-1 Valkyries, using a wide variety of tools to tune up the planes.

“Wow, a practice duel,” says one of the mechanics. “Haven’t had those in a long time.”

“You know, Flying Officer Sterling’s grandparents were ace pilots in the First Robotech War,” says another mechanic, tightening a bolt inside the fuselage of a purple-trimmed veritech plane. “the cadet doesn;’t stand a chance.”

“Remember when Wing Commander Mulder and Squadron leader Oilfield had their duel last year? Even though they were only shooting paint, they did so much damage to each other that it took two days of double shifts to get the planes working properly again.”

“Yeah.”

Ooooooooo

The pilots of Delta Team gather inside a conference room in the office building, right next to their offices.

“All right,” says Wing Commander Arad Mulder. “Here is the exam. Cadet Immelman, Flying Officer Sterling, and Squadron Leader Oilfield will fly up. When we give the signal, Cadet Immelman will have five minutes to hit Flight Officer Sterling with a paintball, while Squadron Leader Oildfield watches. Flying Officer Sterling will be able to hit Cadet Immelman as many times as she likes. If Cadet Immelman scores a hit within five minutes after the timer starts, he passes. If he fails to score a hit within five minutes, he fails and he will be fired. Any questions.”

The pilots in the room know how serious this is, as Mulder addressed them with their rank and last name, instead of their callsigns.

“I know, sir,” says Hayate. “If I want to keep my job, I have to strike Flying Officer Sterling with a paintball.”

“At least you’re starting to pay attention now,” replies the flying officer.

“You had better prepare to fill out your claim for unemployment benefits,” says the squadron leader.

Minutes later, the veritechs are prepared for launch. Squadron Leader Oilfield sits inside the cockpit of his VF-31 Siegfriend, equipped with a gunpod armed with paintballs.

“Squadron Leader Messer Oilfield, callsign Driller, ready for takeoff,” he says.

“Tower to Driller, you are clear.”

The Siegfried speeds down the runway and is soon airborne.

Flying Officer Sterling sits inside the cockpit of VF-1 Valkyrie.

“Flying Officer Mirage Sterling, callsign Buckeye, ready for takeoff,” she says.

“Tower to Buckeye, you are clear.”

The Valkyrie joins Oilfield’s Siegfried in the skies of Ragna.

Finally, it is Cadet Immelman’s turn. He looks at the instrumentation of the veritech. Everything seems to be going fine.

He takes a deep breath.

“Cadet Hayate Immelman, callsign Newbie, ready for takeoff,” he says.

“Tower to Newbie, please stand by.”

“Standby?”

“Roger that, Newbie. Please stand by.”

The cadet wonders what is going on, why he is betying delayed.

Will this exam be postponed?

Or called of together?

“Wing Commander Mulder, is there something wrong?” he asks. “Tower hasn’t cleared me yet.”

His heart races.

He hears the engines run.

He wonders if this machine will run out of protoculture before being cleared for takeoff.

“Tower to Newbie, you are clear for takeoff,” says the air traffic controller.

“Roger that, Tower,” says Hayate. “Newbie is taking off.”

He pushes the throttle.

The tires roll against the concrete surface.

The wind beneath the wings lift up the Valkyrie.

Newbie is airborne.

“Newbie is in the air,” he says.

“Driller to Newbie and Buckeye,” says Oilfield. “I am activating the timer. Five mimnutes and counting.”

“Roger that, Driller,” replies the cadet. He looks and sees a timer counting down on his console.

Suddenly, his veritech is hit with a ball of paint. Hayate glances to the right and sees a purple-trimmed Valkyrie.

“That’s one hit,” says Sterling.

The cadet moves the veritech, hoping to strike back at Buckeye.

Newbie is hit again.

He keeps dodging and weaving through the blue sky, and is hit again and again with paintballs.

Cadet Immelman knows this will be tough.

Oooooo

Meanwhile, Freyja Wiion is inside a sound studio, rehearsing a song. The others watch her biometric data in real time. They can clearly see her fold receptorsd are not active; she is not radiating the bio fold waves used to treat the Var syndrome.

“Let’s do it,” says Kaname.

Reina presses a button on a remote control device, and holograms cover the walls of the sound studio.

Freyja can see a veritech fighter , being hit by paintballs.

“Can you sing for him?” asks Kaname.

Oooooooooo

Flying Officer Mirage Sterling scores another hit on Cadet Immelman.

“If he flies with us,” she says., “he will die on his first combat mission. I hope you get a peaceful job, Newbie. I will make sure you fail.”

She moves in to fire another volley of paintballs at the cadet’s veritech.

Hayate is annoyed. He just can not seem to shake the flying officer, let alone score the winning hit on her. The plane moves on its own, and he is hit again.

There is only one thing.

He shuts off the Valkyrie’s artificial intelligence controls.

“What are you doing, Newbie?” demands Sterling. “Turn on the AI now?”

“I stopped holding back, Buckeye,” he replies.

And then he spirals down to the ocean.

“Cadet Immelman!” yells Flying Officer Sterling. “Eject now!”

“If I eject, I lose my job!”

“If you don’t eject, you lose your life!”

Wing Commander Mulder and Flight Lieutenant Chuck Mustang can see this from a command center just below the air traffic control tower.

“Damn!” yells the Wing Commander. “We have to stop this. Islander to Buckeye, eject him now!”

“Copy, Islander,” she replies. She presses a button on her console to eject Hayate. She sees a failure notice on her cockpit console screen. “Wait! It’s not working.”

“Repeat that, Buckeye?”

“Buckeye to Islander. I am unable to eject Newbie. I’m pressing the button, but it’s not working.”

“Newbie’s spIraling to his death!” yells Flight Lieutenant Mustang.

Mulder picks up a telephone. “I need firefighters and ambulances ready to go now!” he yells, his heart racing. “get the crash crews out there!”

Oooooo

Freyja panics when she sees hayate spiraling down.

“Hayate!” she yells.

“Where are you going?” asks Kaname.

“Hayate’s in danger!” she yells “I have to go out there.”

“He is fighting in his battlefield,” says Mikumo. “This is your battlefield. Can you sing?”

And so the girl sings.

And sings.

And sings.

Hayate hears the singing.

“Freyja!” he yells, removing his helmet.

He falls towards some cliffs next to the opcean.

“Hayate!” Mirage yells.

He then flies under some arches and switches to guardian mode.

He then flies up.

Freyja continues her song.

Buckeye aims her gunpod, preparing to fire at Newbie.

She opens fire.

But the cadet goes into guardian mode and boosts up!

Wing Commander Mulder and Flight Lieutenant Mustang look at the screen In amazement.

Hayate turns around and fires several rounds at Mirage, splashing the cockpit.

There is no doubt.

There is one –sixteenth of a second left.

“Cadet hayate Immelman has passed,” says Mulder.

Hayate feels elated.

He had won.

He passed.

He still wants to stay in the air.

Then he is hit with paintballs.

“Buckeye?” he asks.

“No, this is Driller,” says Squadron Leader Oilfield.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” protests the cadet

“Nothing fair about the battlefield.”

Hayate flies back to the Xaos airfield.

“Tower to Newbie, we are locked into your ALS.”

“Roger that, Tower,” replies Cadet Immelman.

His plane soon lands and the cadet taxies it to the Delta Team hangars.

He soon sees Sterling’s plane taxi to the runway, marked with the blue paint he shot at her.

As soon as the ladder is extended, he climbs up.

“Congratulations,” says his instructor. “You get to stay a cadet- for now.”

“You were right, Flying Officer Sterling,” replies the cadet. “There’s more than just flying. I don’t like this shooting business, but I’ll do what I have to do. I’ll attend every class, every training, from now on.”

Ooooooo

Dr. Naomi Singh sits in her private office, looking at records, while wearing her service khakis.

The door opens and she sees Kaname Buccaneer.

“Yes?” asks the Health Corps liaison, mildly annoyed by the interruption.

“We might want to talk about recent readings concerning Miss Wion,” says the Walkure manager.

Ooooooo

Freyja enters her home, after another physical training session with Walkure.

“Freyja,” calls out Mirage.

“Oh, hi,” replies Walkure’s newest member. “How is training.”

“I’m teaching the best I can. Anyway, it is your turn to do the shopping?”

“with money?”

“Yes.”

“No one gave me money ye.”

“It should have been directly deposited into your account by now,” says Kaname, walking into the main room.

“Okay, so how do I get the cash?”

“What?” asks Mirage. “You don’t know?”

“Well, Mum always had the servants buy stuff for us,” replies Freyja.

“Do you have the documents when you signed up with Walkure?” asks Kaname.

“Yeah, I have them somewhere in my room.”

Freyja searches her bedroom. She finds a pile of papers. She shows them to Kaname and Mirage. Kaname sees the document from the Aerospace Merchants Credit Union, with Freyja’s account number.

“I guess we’ll have to teach you,” says the Walkure manager. “But you will have tyo make up for it.”

“Sure.”

ooooooo

Hayate feels tired after another grueling training session with Flying Officer Sterling. He feels the lessons have gotten much tougher since the midterm. He wonders if it is because she has more confidence in his abilities, she is getting even with him for beating her, or some combination of both.

He sees Squadron Leader Oilfield.

“Meet the wing commander in our conference room,” he says.

And so he does. He enters the room, where Wing Commander Mulder awaits him.

“Cadet Hayate Immelman, reporting as ordered,” says Hayate.

“I have been looking at your performance record with us, Cadet,” replies the wing commander. “Based upon this record, I have come to the conclusion that you may no longer continue as a cadet in Delta Team.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hayate and Freyja get to know their co-workers at Ragnanyannyan, just before their first deployment.

Cadet Hayate Immelman can not believe it.

After all the training he did this past month, after that mid-term exam which he barely passed, after all that hard work, he is being told he can no longer continue as a cadet in Xaos Corporation’s Delta team.

And now it is over?

He is no longer a cadet?

“But..but,” he stammers. “Let me explain.”

“We have already made this decision,” says Wing Commander Arad Mulder, standing inside the conference room.

Hayate Takes a deep breath to calm down. “I understand,” he says softly. “This isn’t a job sitting at an office, or even operating a workroid. Lives are on the line. I know that V-School fails 80% of its candidates. I do want to thank you for this opportunity. So few people ever even get to knock on the door. I’ve learned much from you and Squadron Leader Oilfield and Flying Officer Sterling. I’ll make sure to apply what I’ve learned in my future endeavors, I promise.”

“You’d better,” replies the wing commander, “because that is what we expect from our pilot officers.”

The others in Delta Team enter the room.

“You have been promoted to pilot officer,” says Mulder. “Congratulations, Pilot Officer Hayate Immelman.”

The others clap.

“Oh, I get it,” says the newly promoted pilot officer. “You said I couldn’t continue as a cadet with you guys. And I can’t continue as a cadet if I get promoted, could I?”

“They did that to me too,” says Flight Lieutenant Chuck Mustang. “I was told I can no longer be a cadet, I thought I was getting fired, but I was promoted to pilot officer instead.”

“He will need a new callsign , of course,” says Squadron Leader Messer Oilfield.

“Of course,” replies Mulder. He looks at Hayate. “Pilot Officer Immelman, your callsign is no longer Newbie. From now on, your callsign is Slacker.”

“Slacker?” asks Immelman.

“We should definitely celebrate your promotion,” says Flight Lieutenant Mustang.

“Make sure to enjoy every second of your celebration,” says Oilfield. “Because if you thought being a cadet was tough, being a pilot officer will be much, much harder.”

“Yes, sir,” replies the new pilot officer.

“I never thought you would make it, Slacker,” says Flying Officer Mirage Sterling.

“I never thought you’d be a great instructor,” replies Hayate.

“Very well, then,” says Mulder. “Everyone is dismissed!”

That night, Hayate and Chuck are in a courtyard of this restaurant in this neighborhood in Baretteburg known as Little Deutschland, celebrating Oktoberfest, ladies in traditional clothing revealing cleavage serving beer and brats while bands play traditional folk music.

Ooooooooo

Bogue looks at the enemy fighters, flying before a background of stars.

He pulls the trigger on his stick and another fighter explodes in a fireball.

He lines up another shot, and a second later, another fighter is gone.

He goes for another one.

The fighter seems to evade him.

“Tricky one, aren’t you?” asks the veritech pilot.

He continues to chase after the enemy for a few more seconds.

His targeting system isd lined up.

Bogue squeezes the trigger.

And then blacklness.

He sees a message on the screen.

**YOU DIED**

The canopy opens, and Bogue steps out of the simulator, meeting Master Hermann and his teammates.

“You are too focused on killing and not focused enough on living to fight another day,” says his superior.

“I almost had him!” exclaims Bogue.

“In real life, there are no 1-ups, no reset buttons.”

Bogue takes a deep breath. “Sir, heroes sacrifice the one life they have for the greater good.”

“There is no greater good in scoring more kills,” says Hermann. “You were not protecting anyone, nor eliminating a threat to anyone else.”

“Listen,” says Keith, putting his hand on Bogue’s shoulder. “we must make another run soon. Perhaps you or I will sacrifice ourselves for this vision, but I would prefer if we could both witness this during our lives.”

Oooooooo

“Okay, sir,” says the mechanic, “you got yerself yer veritech here.”

Pilot Officer Hayate Immelman had gone to the Delta team hangar to inspect his new Stonewell Bellcom VF-31 Siegfried for the first time. It has a blue trim, two wings and a shapr nose. Just below the canopy is stenciled **P/O HAYATE IMMELMAN “SLACKER”. **

“Looks great,” he says.

“Yeah, I’ve decades of experience fixin’ veritechs,” says the lead mechanic. “I was actually assigned on board the SDF-4 _Liberator_, tunin’ up all of the Alphas and Betas before they launched on that final assault on Reflex Point. That woulda been way before yer time.”

“My dad’s first battle was on the surface of the Planet Earth during Reflex Point,” replies the pilot officer. “Well, if those veritechs you fixed kept some of the enemy away from my dad, I guess I should be thankful.”

The mechanic pulls out a data pad. “Ya got a message here,” he says.

He looks and sees none other than Makina Nakajima, one of the singers from Walkure- or at least a cartoon caricature of her.

“I know how much you hate the AI,” she says, “ so we tuned up the Sieggy so you can fvly withiout a helmet. “But if things go south, make sure tyou use the x Gear systems.” He sees a caricature of the green-haired girl known as Reina Proeler sitting in the seat, and a helmet attached to some sort of armature goes on her head.

“Well, uh, keep up the good work,” says Hayate. His cell phone beeps. He looks and sees a message to meet the rest of the team in the conference room.

And sio he walks over there, taking a good ten minutes to get there all the way from the hangar. He manages to get inside. He notices the members of Walkure are there, including Freyja.

“Uh, hi,” he says.

“I heard you got promoted,” says Freyja.

“Yeah, I’m a pilot officer now. Still outranked by the others.”

The others in Delta Team are there as well. A hologram appears. The man is wearing service khakis often worn by U.N. Spacy officers.

Captain Ernest Johnson addresses everyone in the room. “First of all, I wish tio introduce Captain Ken Chae of the United Nations Spacy,” he says.

“Thank you,” replies the Spacy captain. “I am captain of the _Anatole Leonard_. My ship was assigned by the Robotech Defense Fleet to escort Walkure and its support team in its operations.”

“Uh, nice to meet you,” says Freyja.

“Dr. Singh will brief Walkure and Delta Team on the upcoming concert,” says Johnson.

Dr. Naomi Singh, clad in her service khakis, faces the others in the room. “The Kingdom of Randor, located on the Planet Randor, has requested a concert from Walkure,” says the Health Corps commander. “It will be held two days from now, at the Petit Cola stadium. Many important government officials will attend the concert so that they can be waccinated from the bio fold waves generated by our singers. Also, officers and crew from the _Leonard_ will be attending the concert.”

“Wing Commander Mulder,” says Johnson.

“These unknown attackers who struck at al Shahal may strike again,” says the wing commander. “No doubt the Spacy’s defensive flotilla, plus the _Leonard_, will protect Walkure. That does not diminish our duty to do the same. We must not be complacent.”

The others note Mulder’s serious tone; he is sounding like his second-in-command, Squadron Leader Messer Oilfield.

“We leave on the _Aether_ tomorrow on a course to Randor,” says Captain Johnson. “Stay out of trouble. Dismissed!”

OOOOOOOO

That evening, both Walkure and Delta Team have dinner at the Ragnanyanyan. Various types of fusion cuisines are served. Hayate is liking the jellyfish ramen.

“Thanks, Peggy” he says to the waitress.

Peggy, whose given name is P’Graavak, has four eyes- two in the front of the head, and two on the side of the head.

She has four arms, two on each side. She has two legs. Her skin is green and scaly with red stripes.

She is a scalie, a lifeform indigenous to a planet called Glorie. About a thousand scalies emigrated from their homeworld, settling in worlds across the galaxy, mostly within the United Nations and the Karbarran Confederation.

Peggy walks to the kitchen to get some more food. Chuck’s siblings also wait wables, as does a blond-haired lady named Lisa.

Ernest Johsnon, now wearing a casual short-sleeve shirt and blue jeans, addresses the crowd that had populated the restaurant.

“Attention,” he says. “I am honored to have had a role in the genesis of Walkure. I want to introduce the newest singer for Walkurwe, Freyja Wion, and the newest pilot for Delta Team, Pilot Officer Hayate Immelman.”

Everyone claps as Freyja and Hayate sit next to each other.

“Cheers!” almost everyone says.

“Do our guests of honor have a few words?” asks the captain.

Freyja stands up, wearing a simple dress with a pink trim. “I, Freyja wion, dedicate my life to Walkure!” she exclaims.

Everyone claps.

“And Pilot Officer Immelman,” says Johnson, “do you have a few words?”

“Uh, who me?” asks the pilot officer. “Well, uh.”

“Just say hi,” says Flight Lieutenant Chuck Mustang.

“I’m Pilot Officer Hayate Immelman,” he says. “Call sign is Slacker. I’m really grateful for this. I mean, I was surprised when I was promoted to pilot officer. Well, at least I got a pay raise. Can’t complain about that.”

The crowd laughs a little bit.

Hayate sits down, eating some more of the jellyfish ramen.

“I do hope your flying skills are better than your public speaking skills,” says Wing Commander Arad Mulder, casually dressed in a red collared shirt and black slacks.

“Of course,” he replies. “Now, I know why I have the callsign Slacker. Why is your callsign Islander, sir?”

“It is a long story, Slacker. You sure you want to hear it?”

“I got plenty of time.”

“Here goes my story. It started fifty-six years ago, on a passenger flight called Pan Am Flight 77, between two continents on Earth, named Asia and North America. It was flying over an ocean called the Pacific.”

The names sound familiar to Hayate, but he is not too familiar with the geography of Planet Earth. “Go on.”

“Then came the Rain of Death. Fire fell from the sky, striking the plane. It was falling. The pilots managed to land the plane in the water, near an island. The passengers tried to make it to land, not all of them did.”

Hayate definitely had heard of the Rain of Death, the orbital bombardment that happened on the last day of the First Robotech War. He had seen pictures of the devastation in books and online. The youngest people who could remember witnessing it would be in their sixties, now. “What happened next?”

“The island had fruit trees and fresh water. There were even some caves for shelter in the storm. Furthermore, some of the passengers knew how to make nets for fishing. All four of my grandparents were, of course, survivors of Pan Am 77. They were only children at the time.

“Babies were born,; people began to build with what stone tools they could make. I was born twenty-nine years later. There was already a substantial village of bamboo buildings. Fishermen sailed out on canoes in calm weather to collect fish. Some brave souls had explored the surrounding sea, but there were no other people nearby.

“Thirty-three years after the crash of Pan Am flight 77, the U.N. Spacy cruiser _Hiroshima_ landed in the water near the island that was now called Lucky Island. The captain greeted us.

“I was only four years old. I did not understand fully what this meant except there were new people from a land far, far away. But my parents and older brothers and sisters knew. For their whole lives, they had belIeved that they and their neighbors on the island were the sum total of all humanity. To know that others survived the Rain of Death, to know that others colonized the stars. It shook their Universe. I wish my grandparents had lived long enough to witness it; only three of the original passengers of Flight 77 lived to see the _Hiroshima_. The last of them died three years ago.”

“Wow,” says Hayate, amazed at this story. There is so much he could learn. “I am wondering, sir. Why did you leave?”

“Many of the older people on the island refused to leave,” replies Arad. “For them, Lucky Island was the Universe; they did not consider anything outside the island as real. But I knew of the outside world from a young age and I wanted to at least find myself out there, before deciding whether or not to settle down on the island. I studied hard, and applied to the United Earth Forces Academy. The United Earth Government had a law saying that any native of Lucky Island, born before the arrival of the _Hiroshima_, who was qualified, was entitled to attend, and so I did.”

“So you went to V-school?”

“I went to V-School on my summer break before first class; the Space Marines were impressed with my talent. I graduated, got commissioned, and flew with Knight Squadron. After a few years, I left the space Marines and joined Xaos.”

“I’m surprised they were okay with you leaving so early after spending all that money training you.”

“I have thought about why they did not just transfer me to the Reserves,” says Arad. “I can only speculate that since I was flying for the Health Service, I was doing important enough work that the Space Marines relieved me of my service obligation. I certainly would not have been able to do that if I left to become a pilot for a cruise ship.”

“Uh, what about you, Chef?” asks Hayate.

“Hey,” replies Chuck, “I’ve been flying since I was little, I applied to Xaos. Driller was so impressed with my skills that he invited me for tryouts.”

“And yhou, Mirage?” asks Freyja.

“Well, it’s like this,” she replies. “During the Evacuation of Earth after the Invid Invasion, my dad’s escape shuttle was shot down, and he was separated from his family. He joined the Ocean Patrol, became a Bullfrog.”

“A Bullfrog?” asks Freyja.

“They’re basically commandos for the United Nations Ocean Patrol,” says Hayate.

“He fought against the Invid Regency,” continues Mirage. “He became an officer. He married my mom, had two boys and me. I was born just four months before the Battle of Reflex Point. After that Dad was reunited with his family after thirteen years of separation. He chose to live on Earth. Then, when I was eight years old, he knocked up Mom with identical twins- Amber Nicole Sterling and Ashley Nadine Sterling.”

“Wow,” says Freyja. “when was the last time you saw them?”

“Three days ago, just after Immelman was promoted. I was at my biggest brother’s wedding. We had prime rib and lobster at the reception.”

“Sounds delicious,” says Chuck.

“Wow, you have such interesting stories,” says Hayate. He walks up to Messer Oilfield, who is holding a drink and standing by a wooden pillar.

“Uh, what’s your story, sir?” he asks.

“I was in the Air Force, flew veritechs, then worked for Delta Team,” replies Messer.

“That’s it?”

“I got my callsign Driller because I’m as tough as a drill sergeant.”

Hayate walks away.

Nearby, Freyja speaks with some children.

“Thank you,” says an eight-year-old girl. “good luck with the concert.”

“Good luck with school,” replies Freyja.

Barry Wu looks at his phone. “Traffic on the freeway,” he says. “we’d better make sure you go potty.”

“Okay, Daddy,” says his four-year-old son.

“I’ll take care of the girls,” says his wife Naomi Singh, now wearing a simple skirt and blouse instead of a Health Corps uniform.

Soon, Hayate goes outside on the balcony. Above him is the night sky of Planet Ragna. He hears the waves crash against the beach.

“Hi, Hayate,” says Freyja, joining him outside.

“Are you nervous?” he asks.

“Yeah. It’s my first concert. With people, people relying on me to protect them from Var. And you?”

“When I had that duel with Buckeye, she was shooting paint at me. If those unknown enemies attack, they won’t be shooting at me- or you- with paint.”

Oooooooooo

“And they rode off into the sunset,” says Naomi Singh, reading a children’s storybook while inside a bedroom.

The bedroom has a small bed, small chars, and a small dresser. Her son, her youngest child, sleeps here every night,. Naomi can still remember the day she gave birth to him.

“so you going space?” he asks.

“Yes, Mommy is going to space to help Walkure,” she replies.

“Those girls who sing?”

“Yes. Now sleep well.”

Not long afterward, Naomi joins her husband in their bedroom. It is a large room with a large bed, a dresser, a desk with a desktop computer, and an adjacent bathroom- typical for a large house in the suburbs.

“Kids are asleep,” says Naomi.

Barry looks into his wife’s eyes. “so you leave for space tomorrow,” he says.

“Yeah.”

He kisses her, running his hands through her black hair, and their hearts race.

“I want you,” he says.

Her clothes come off, revealing more of her brown skin. Barry looks and sees the cleavage of her breasts, encased in a bra.

Which soon comes off. He looks at the tits in full view, the tits that produced the milk that fed their children. He gazes at the nipples, the nipples which their three children sucked years ago. Soon, her panties are dropped on the floor, and he sees her fully nude.

It is not long before he removes his shirt, showing his muscled, amber-complected body. Pulling down his pants, he exposes his penis, fully erect, veins throbbing, the length that created life inside Naomi three times.

They kiss and embrace while naked, feeling their skin against each other.

Their hearts race.

She lays down and spreads her thighs, exposing her vulva, the gateway to her femininity and her fertility, the gateway out of which their children emerged into the wider Universe. Her clitoris sticks out from between her labia.

It is all the communication Barry needs. He mounts her, his glans touching her lady lips.

And he sticks his penis inside her vagina.

For a minute the two of them enjoy of feeling of their sexual union.

Then he pulls out until only the glans is inside, and pushes back in, his throbbing, erect cock rubbing against the sides of her sopping wet cunt.

The cycle of pull and thrust continues. He kisses her and licks her tits.

She moans in pleasure.

He grunts with passion.

His dick continues to slide in and out of her pussy.

They sweat until their nude bodies are covered in a thin film.

Her womanhood becomes burning hot, radiating waves of pleasure through her body.

He feels his lust and desire concentrating into his manhood.

The climax approaches.

Barry grunt loudly as he ejaculated his seed deep into Naomi’s feminine depths. He continues to thrust his rock hard fuck tool into her very feminine depths continues as more and more wads of sperm are fired into her. Her cunt clenches his cock, milking out even more cum.

Finally, they are spent. Barry and Naomi lay down each other, naked, treasuring this moment.

Ooooooo

“Wow, so this is the _Aether_,” says Freyja, boarding the carrier vessel via a moveable lift.

“Wait ‘till you see our suites,” says Mikumo Guynemer.

THE Walkure members walk along the corridors of the _Aether_. They pass some crewmen with their voeralls and employee IDs. After riding an elevator and a Side-a-Vator®™, they reach their suites.

“Wow!” says Freyja. “It would be fit for a Windermerean prince!”

Freyja looks at her own suite, which has a huge bed, a dresser, and a television. There are two chairs and a sofa, all with leather cushions.

“Well, we are the best,” says Kaname. “That’s why the company splurges for us.”

On another deck, Pilot Officer Hayate Immelman looks at his quarters.

“Small, but comfortable,” he says, seeing the simple room with the bed and small desk and chair and dresser.

“Space is a premium on board a vessel this size,” says Flying Officer Mirage Sterling. “Drinks and snacks are in the break room, and we get to use the officers’ mess for meals. And don’t get too settled in; we may have to deploy as soon as we defold in the Randor system.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Attention all crew and passengers,” says a voice. “_Aether_ preparing its ascent from Ragna.”

Inside the bridge, there is a bustle of activity. The briddge crew, sitting at their consoles, read the instruments informing them of practically everything about the ship. Captain Ernest Johnson sits in his chair, making sure to watch everything.

Soon, the _Aether_ rises out of Ragna’s atmosphere. The carrier vessel approaches the _Leonard_.

“We have calculations from the E.V.E.,” says a second officer. The _Aether_ and the _Leonard_ will be folding to hyperspace, on a trajectory that will take us to Planet Randor, two hours’ external transit time. “

“Let us fold,” says the captain.

Multicolored lights permeate the ship, and everyone notices. Both the _Aether_ and the _Leonard_ glow, and then fold into hyperspace, radiating gravitational waves.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walkure and Delta Team travel to the Planet Randor for a concert.

“Hyperspace defold in three, two, one,” says Nina O’ Toole, who sits at a console on the _Aether_. Muticolored lights permEate the bridge.

Space glows, and soon the Xaos Corporation starship _Aether_ and the U.E.S. _Anatole Leonard_ appear back in normal space, radiating gravitational waves. Nearby is a brown and blue planet.

“Position is confirmed, Captain,” says Jennifer Ramos, glancing at Captain Ernest Johnson.

“We’ve confirmed the _Leonard_ defolded alongside us,” says Beth Morton.

The two ships approach the planet, entering into a circular orbit maybe five hundred miles above the surface. A detachment from the U.N. Spacy Brisingr Globular Cluster Fleet Division orbits the planet to provide military assistance to the Kingdom of Randor, one of the member states of the United Nations.

“We are ready for docking procedures,” says Captain Ken Chae, speaking from the bridge of the _Leonard_.

The two ships approach each other, their relative velocity approaching zero. A docking sleeve emerges from the Leonard’s docking port to connect with the _Aether’s_ docking port.

“I wonder why we can’t just teleport there,” says Morton. “I heard it’s possible.”

“Because they need to figure out a method of being able to teleport people without turning them into meaty chunks,” replies Ramos.

Captain Johnson picks up the phone. “Dr. Singh,” he says, “we are docked with the _Leonard_ now.”

Minutes later, Dr. Naomi Singh walks along the corridors of the _Aether_. Instead of service khakis, she wears the Class “C” uniform which is a white buttoned blouse, and a white skirt reaching just below the knee. Colored ribbons are pinned to the upper left side of her blouse, the ones of the top telling the story of her service in the United Nations Galactic Health Service Commissioned Corps, and the ribbons on the bottom telling the story of her previous service in the United Nations Spacy. Three one-inch stripes on her shoulderboards tell everyone that Singh is a commander.

She walks to the docking port and through the sleeve.

A black-haired man dressed in service khakis and blue trousers stands at the Leonard’s docking port. Two men in blue overalls stand at his sides.

“Commander Naomi Singh, United Nations Galactic Health Service Commissioned Corps, Surgeon General’s Liaison to the _Aether_ and Walkure, requesting permission to board, sir,” she says.

“Captain Ken Chae, United Nations Spacy, captain of the _Ikazuchi_-class carrier United Earth Ship _Anatole Leonard_,” replies the man. “Permission granted. Welcome aboard the _Leonard_, Commander.”

And so the doctor walks into the corridor of the _Leonard_. After walking maybe ten or so minutes, they reach the landing bay.

Dr. Singh sees two others. One is a woman in a very similar outfit to hers. She has near-black skin and tightly-curled black hair under her cap. The other is a blond-haired, aple-skinned man in a short-sleeve olive drab shirt and slacks. Both of tghem have service ribbons on their chest. The woman has the three one-inch stripes on her shoulder boards like singh does, while the man has silver oak leave pins on his collar.

“I introduce to you my XO, Commander Celine LeFleur, and my Space Marine detachment commander, Lieutenant Colonel Daniel Brett Waterman,” says the Spacy captain. “They and many of my officers, crew, and Space Marines, will be going down to Randor to be waccinated.”

Singh introduces herself.

“So you’re in the Spacy Medical Corps,” says Waterman.

“Actually, no,” replies the Health Corps commander.

Waterman takes a look at the cap Dr. Singh is wearing. Instead of the lone rocket thruster symbol that Spavy officers wear, the emblem is that of a erocket thruster at a forty-five degree angle, crossed with a spike with a spiral around it.

Another man, skin as dark as LeFleur’s skin, walks up. He is also dressed similarly, with a short white-sleeve shirt and white pants. He towers over the others in the room, and could give Captain Johnson a run for his money in the height department.

“Master Space Sergeant Taylor,” he says.

“Hello there,” says Singh.

“I’ll go down to watch over the crew down there,” says the master space sergeant. “If any of them cause trouble, I will make sure that they do really dirty work for a whole month!”

“Shall we board?” asks Commander LeFleur.

She, Singh, and Waterman all board the Rockwell International Star Goose IV shuttle. Powered by miniature reflex reactors, the shuttle is capable of landing on and taking off from planets with roughly the same gravity as Earth multiple times.

The flight crew of the Star Goose get permission from the Leonard air boss to take off, and the shuttle’s thrusters propel it out of the flight deck. The _Aether’s_ bridge crew inform Captain Johnson that Dr. Singh is on her way down to the planet.

A barrier system is activated as the shuttle enters the atmosphere.; it is bathed in a red glow due to heat caused by friction with the air molecules. The heat dissipates the kinetic energy, causing the spacecraft to slow. In a few minutes, the speed goes below the speed of sound.

The flight crew communicates with air traffic control. They are soon guided to land at Joint Forces Air Field Randor.

The landing gear tires make contact with the concrete surface of the runway. Once the shuttle taxies to the terminal, ground crews place a moveable stairway against the portside door.

An Air Force colonel steps out of a Humvee. Commander LeFleur steps down from the shuttle, joined by Dr. Singh and the others. They can feel a slight cooling breeze. A few minutes later, Dr. Singh watches as a second Star Goose from the _Leonard_ lands on the runway and taxies to the terminal. More crewmen, dressed in the stereotypical white sailor suit with white pants, long-sleeve white shirt with flap collar, a neckerchief around the flap collar, white trousers, and black dress shoes. Each of the crewmen have colored ribbons pinned on the left side of the chest, telling the story of their service. The junior enlistees wait as the sergeants inspect them.

Commander LeFleur, Dr. Singh, Colonel Waterman, and some senior officers from the _Leonard_ enter a van. The enlistees board this huge bus. These vehicles then drive through the base’s streets towards the main gate.

The gatehouse is a tower like structure, manned by Air Force Security Police. The vehciles pass through, and just outside the main gate of JFAF Randor is a sign- **ENTERING THE TERRITORIAL JURISDICTION OF THE KINGDOM OF RANDOR- **written in at least three languages**. **

The vehicles travel along the highways and freeways, passing through countryside and suburbia, with huge signs advertising fast food outlets and motels rising from the side of the road.

After getting off on an exit, the military vehicles soon approach this huge, elliptical structure. Letters on tyop identify this structure as Petit Cola Stadium.

The guests are led through one of the main entrance. They are impressed by the indoor concourse, which has food courts and flat screen monitors. They are then led up to the seats. In the interior of the stadium is a flat surface.

They walk up steps and enter seating section that goes around the inside of the stadium. Dr. Singh and the senior officers of the Leonard are seated inside one of the box seating areas, where the chairs are spaced further apart.

In another VIP box section, Public Health Minister Oren Rebbet sits on a plush chair, waiting for Walkure’s concert to begin.

“Great place,” says Dr. Benjamin Greenfeld, the United Nations Surgeon General.

“Yes,” replies the health minister. “Aside from concerts, we have baseball games and _kradnrya_ games.

He looks at the surgeon general, who wears a short-sleeved white-collared shuirt, white trousers, black dress shoes, eyeglasses, and a cap. There are two gold shoulderboards, one one each shoulder, and on each shoulderboard there are three stars and an emblem that looks like a tiny rocket thruster crossed with a spike with a spiral around it.

“Nothing like a kosher dog or a bagel with cream cheese to make this perfect,” says Greenfeld. “If you ever visit this place called Brooklyn on Planet Earth, there is this bagel shop, in this neighborhood called Williamsburg. It is run by this man named Moishe…”

Oooooooo

Freyja Wion looks at herself in the mirror as the makeup artist puts more makeup on. Walkure’s newest singer wears a sleeveless blouse and a short skirt, as she had been told it would be Eighty-five down at Petit Cola Stadium. She had to calculate to find out the temperature according to the personal temperature scale used by many civilizations descended from the Robotech Masters; eighty-five is equivalent to just under seventy-nine.

Her heart is beating a little faster than normal, for this is her first concert.

“I hope you’re ready,” says Mikumo Guynemer, her purple hair flowing to her waist.

“Not really,” answers Freyja.

“It’s all coming down now. Ready or not, here we go!”

She leaves the dressing room. Walking along the corridors of the Aether, she follows the others in Walkure to the hangar deck, where the shuttle awaits.

In side the cabin are seats. Freyja looks at her bandmates- Mikumo Guynemer, Kaname Buccaneer, Reina Prowler, and Makina Nakajima.

In the meantime, Pilot Officer Hayate Immelman, wearing a blue-trimmed flight suit, walks to his blue-trimmed Stonewell Bellcom VF-31 Siegfried. His heart beats a little faster from the stress, as this is his first sortie with Walkure. He climbs up the ladder, stepping into his cockpit. He turns on the instrument panel, checking for anything that might be wrong with his veritech plane.

He wonders if the concert will be canceled. Then he can go back to Ragna, practice for another day.

An air traffic controller, clad in a pressurized suit and holding glowing sticks, motions Hayate to taxi to the lift. And so the veritech pilot does so. Soon, the lift, powered by hydraulics, lifts the plane UP THE the flight deck of the _Aether_, which is basically the top surface. Hayate can see the planet above him.

He takes a deep breath.

“Pilot Officer Hayate Immelman,” he says. “Callsign Slacker. Ready for takeoff.”

For a brief second, he wonders if the concert will be called off, or at least if the air boss would delay take off.”

“Air Boss to Slacker, you are clear for takeoff.”

“Copy that. Slacker taking off.” He pushes the throttle forward. He watches the tachometer rise as the plane shoots off the flight deck. Soon he is in the orbital space above Planet Ragna.

“Slacker is in the air,” he says.

“Glad you can join us,” says Flying Officer Mirage Sterling.

“Islander to Delta Team,” says Wing Commander Arad Mulder. “Maintain position until the Clown Car has left the Tour Bus.”

Hayate easily recalls what those words mean, given their silliness.

“Copy that, Islander,” replies everyone else.

Meanwhile, the Clown Car is lifted onto the _Aether’s_ flight deck.

“All passengers, we are taking off,” Freyja hears the pilot hear over the speaker. Soon, the shuttle takes off.

“Clown Car to Tour Bus,” says the pilot. “we are on approach to the planet.”

“Copy that,” says Captain Johnson, sitting in the _Aether’s_ bridge.

Inside the bridge of the _Leonard_, Captain Chae listens on.

“Harmon, O’Donnell, Bakula,” says the Spacy captain. “Pay extra attention. Who knows if these hostiles will show up?”

Ooooooo

As to answer Captain Chae’s question, a boy named Heinz starts singing.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walkure has their concert on Planet Randor. But enemies await to crash the concert...

The shuttle whose callsign is Clown Car, and whose passengers are the Super Dimension Venus Walkure, descends towards the atmosphere of Planet Randor, escorted by five Stonewell Bellcom VF-31 Siegfried.

“Islander to Delta Team and Clown Car,” says Wing Commander Arad Mulder, “prepare for atmospheric entry.”

And so they descend. With both material heat shields and robotech barrier systems, the hull is protected from the heating due to the friction with the molecules of the upper atmosphere. The relative velocity to the planet is reduced. The sky goes from black to blue as the spacecraft descend deeper into the air.

Islander checks his airspeed; he had slowed down to about one thousand knots.

“We will assign your approach vector, Delta Team,” says a Randorian air traffic controller.

“Copy,” replies the wing commander.

The spacecraft approach closer and closer towards Petit Cola Stadium.

A rear parachute ramp in the shuttle opens up. The band members of Walkure prepare to jump out.

In the stadium, the crowd gets excited as an announcer announces the arrival of Walkure.

The band members stand in a circiole and puit their hands together, and they all shout out, “Go Walkure!”

“Welcome to Walkure World!” a prerecoerded voice says over the speakers.

Delta Team’s veritec h planes fly overhead, leaving behind a trail of smoke- yellow, blue, white, lavender, and cyan.

Hayate smiles as his plane leaves behind a trail of cyan smoke.

Hovering devices are released, which amplify the bio fold waves.

The Walkure members jumps out, surrounded by a force field.

Freyja looks down nervously. She had ndone this before in practice. She knows her suit has booster jets that will keep her from going splat on the ground- at least in theory.

“Here goes nothing,” she says.

She jumps out.

She can see the stadium below her approach faster and faster.

Was the power supply dead?

Then, she is enveloped in a pink light.

Her clothes seem to change into something much more flashy.

Her descent is slowing down,.

The others manage to land on a stage in the center of Petit Cola Stadium.

She lands on the stage, stumbling and tripping as she does so.

She stands up, glad that she is able to.

“Hello everyone,” says Mikumo. “We want to introduce our newest member, here for her first concert. Please welcome Freyja Wion.”

The crowd cheers. Freyja looks nervously at all the people in the stands.

“Uh, hi,” she says. “I’m Freyja, and I’m from Windermere IV. I like apples!”

Many in the crowd laugh.

Kaname makes a hand gesture.

“Okay,” says Mikumo. “We shall begin.”

And so Freyja performs her first song with Walkure. The crowd continues to cheer.

Standing inside one of the boxes in the stadium, Dr. Naomi Singh looks at the holographic display being projected from her bracelet. The odds of a Var outbreak have been reduced. However, Freyja’s fold receptors are non-active.

The Health Corps commander looks at the others in the box. Even the senior officers of the _Leonard_ are enjoying themselves.

Ooooooooo

Master Hermann sits inside the cockpit of his veritech fighter. He had frequently glanced at his instruments to make sure there is nothing wrong with his war machine.

“Okay,” he says to the others. “Move out!”

The veritechs take off, heading down to Planet Randor.

Ooooooo

“Unknown aircraft descending into the atmosphere,” says a crewman at a console on the _Leonard’s_ bridge.

“Scramble the veritech fighters,” says Captain Ken Chae, sitting in his chair. “Notify Delta Flight.”

“Randor air defense is reporting that they have tracked the bogeys,” says another crewman at another console. “No response from them.”

In the Leonard’s flight dweck, the U.N. Spacy pilots scrambled to get into their planes.

“Rouge Leader to Air Boss,” says the commander of the pilots, “ready for takeoff.”

“You are clear, Rouge Leader,” answers the _Leonard_ air boss.

Soon, he and the others of Rouge Squadron take off.

“You are to cover Walkure and Delta Flight,” says Chae. “Do not engage unless they attack them or you, or until further orders.”

“Copy that, sir,” replies Rouge Leader.

The VF-31 Siegfrieds of Rouge Squadron descend into Randor’s atmosphere.

Oooooo

“Something’s jamming our amplifiers,” says Makina, looking at a holographixc display.

The amplifiers come crashing down on the stage, and the band members run to avoid getting struck.

“Missiles incoming!” yells Reina.

They all dive to cover themselves. The Delta Team Siegfrieds transform into guardian mode and blast the missiles with their auto cannon.

“We must protect the guests!” yells Flight Lieutenant Chuck Mustang.

Flying Officer Mirage Sterling looks at her radar console, seeing more blips.

“Buckeye to Delta Team,” she says. “I’ve spotted more bogeys. Perhaps they are more enemies. 

“No,” says Squadron Leader Messer Oilfield. “They are reinforcements from the _Leonard_.”

“Good,” says Hayate.

Wing Commander Mulder hears singing. “Islander to Delta Team,” he says, “do any of you hear this song on this channel.”

“Slacker to Islander,” says Hayate, “I hear it.”

“To whoever is singing on this channel,” says the wing commander, “identify yourself.”

“I hear singing,” says Freyja, still on the stage.

“Yeah, me too,” replies Kaname.

The veritechs from the Leonard approach closer and closer.

They then open fire on Delta Team.

“What the hell?” asks Flight Lieutenant Mustang.

“They must’ve been infected by Var!” yells Flying Officer Sterling.

“Dammit!” yells Hayate.

“Delta Team to _Leonard_,” says Mulder. “Be advised your squadron may have been infected with Var.”

“What?” asks Captain Chae.

“Yes, sir, your veritech squadron is under the effect of Var.”

“We copy, Delta Team. Just protect the concert-goers.”

“Chef to Delta Team and _Leonard_,” says Mustang, looking at a readout from his Siegfried’s bio fold detector. “Var infection has been confirmed.”

“Buckeye to Delta Team,” says Sterling. “The pilots arte attacking in formation.”

Wing Commander Mulder has to put the implicit question aside. “We must protect the guests and Walkure!” he yells.

Squadron Leader Oilfield clutches his head. “Roger that, Islander,” he grumbles.

“you mean we have to attack our allies?” asks Hayate.

“they’re not themselves,” says Sterling.

“They are now the enemy,” says Oilfield. He shoots down one of the Siegfrieds. “We must protect the people below. We must protect, even at the risk of our lives. And so do pilots in the U.N. Spacy. They knew that when they took the oath.”

“You’re right,” says the captain of the _Leonard_, clearly unhappy with this situation. “They must be stopped.”

The band members run as the veritechs from the _Leonard_ rain ammunition down on them. Hayate gasps, wondering if Freyja is hurt- or worse.

He does not want to kill the pilots from the _Leonard_.

He does not want to kill anyone.

But he has to protect her!

Flying Officer Sterling flies behind one of the veritechs.

“If I could just hit the wing,” she says.

She sees the crosshairs on the port side of her taget. If she can get closer so that the portside wing was in the center…

“Buckeye, you have a bandit on your six!” yells Squadron Leader Oilfield.

The flying officer glances behind and sees one of the enemy fighters.

“you are wide open,” says Bogue as he prepares to kill his enemy.

Suddenly, his aircraft is huit, and one of the drone pods carried on his wing falls off.

“Driller!” yells Sterling.

“You hesistated, Buckeye,” says Oilfield. “He would have blown you right out of the sky!” He then approaches the enemy fighter.

And then sees laser fire go right by him.

“Keith!” yells Bogue.

“I know you,” says Keith, looking at the blue-trimmed veritech.

“You were from Al Shahal,” says Squadron Leader Oilfield.

The two veritechs engage in a duel in the skies of Randor.

Hayate sees two enemy missiles fly by, leaving behind smoke trails. Magnifying the view from his veritech’s camera, her can see Freyja and Kaname running.

“Fly!” yells Kaname. The missiles hit the ground behind them, and Freyja flies up.

“Kaname!” she yells.

Then one of the _Leonard’s_ Siegfrieds lands right in front of her; its pilot controlled by Var.

It aims its gunpod as Freyja.

And Hayate flies in, switching to battloid mode and blocking the gunfire with its robotech barrier.

The pilot officer knows that the barrier can not stand indefinitely.

It finally gives in.

He is vulnerable.

“I must protect Freyja,” he yells, rushing at the veritech battloid and grappling it.

“Snap out of it!” Hayate yells to the pilot.

Freyja then hears Mikumo sing.

The lead singer seems confident, even through all this destruction.

Dr. Naomi Singh peeks out from inside the stadium, measuring the bio fold activity.

“this is dangerous,” whispers Commander Celine LeFleur.

“We all knew we would have to risk our lives,” replies the Health Corps commander.

The pilots in the immediate vicinity begint o recover from Var syndrome.

The rest of the band starts singing.

“Driller to Slacker,” says Oilfield. “What’s going on down there?”

“One of them was cured by Walkure,” answers Hayate. “Do I join you up there.”

“Affirmative, Slacker.”

Hayate flies off and transforms into fighter mode to join the rest of Delta Team.

“Something’s still jamming the amps,” says Beth Morton.

“We need to pinpoint the source,” says Captain Ernest Johnson.

“_Leonard_ to Delta Team and _Aether_,” says a female voice. “We’ve managed to find the source of the jamming. It’s in low orbit. We are sending the trajectory.”

“Driller to Slacker,” says Oilfield, “You’re the closest to the jamming source. Go get him.”

“Yes, sir,” says Hayate. He pushes the throttle, flying higher and higher. Soon, the dark blue sky is replaced with the black ness of space.

He sees it as a blip on his screen. He only need to fire missiles.

He approaches closer and closer.

He can see the source of the jamming=- a small spaceship, about the size of a Space Sparrow.

He sees a circular disk above it.

It must be from where the jamming wave radiate.

He does not have to kill whoever is inside.

He takes careful aim.

He switches to battloid mode.

And he opens fire.

The disklike structure on top of the spacecraft is destroyed, with a flash of light and smoke briefly appearing.

“Jamming has been cleared!” yells Jennifer Ramos over the channel.

“Walkure’s bio fold waves are being amplified again,” says Mulder.

“Launch more amplifiers!” yells Captain Johnson.

The bio fold waves from the Walkure song are amplified, reaching all of the infected Spacy veritech pilots. The veins in their face deflate, and they come back to their senses.

“We still have these bandits to chase away!” yells Flight Lieutenant Mustang.

“This is Buckeye, I got two on my six!” yells Flying Officer Sterling.

“Slacker to Buckeye, I’m going in!” yells Hayate.

He flies in and sees two enemy fighters after her. He opens fiore on one of them, who puills away. He pulls; the trigger on another enemy.

And the veritech fighter explodes in a fireball.

“Thanks, Slacker,” says Sterling.

“The others are bugging out,” says Wing Commander Mulder. “Just stay in position and continue our protection of Walkure.”

Oooooooo

A few hours later, the shuttle finally takes Walkure back to the _Aether_.

“Slacker to _Aether_ Air Boss,” says Hayate. “Standing by to land.”

“Air Boss to Slacker, we are locked on to you,” replies the air boss.

The Stonewell Bellcom VF-31 Siegfried’s Automatic Landing System steers the plane until it lands right on the flight deck. Hayate taxies to the lift which then takes him down to the hangar deck.

He opens the canopy and steps down, his feet finally reaching the deck.

Only now is he able to process what happened.

He stained his hands with blood.

He had killed someone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will Hayate and Freyja deal with the aftermath of the attack on Planet Randor?

Many people in white uniforms gather inside the hangar deck of the U.E.S. _Anatole Leonard_. Their white uniforms are the dress whites, consisting of a hat, white trousers or skirts, and a white tunic with brass buttons down the middle. Medals telling the story of their service are pinned to the left side of the chest. Also being worn are the classic Space Marine dress blues, which are derived from a uniform that had its origins on Earth in the 19th century A.D..

On three tripods are framed pictures of three pilots of Rouge Squadron. A lieutenant commander in the United Nations Spacy Chaplain Corps addresses the people gathered here, which includes Captain Ken Chae, Commander Celine LeFleur, and Lieutenant Colonel Daniel Brett Waterman.

“There is neither rhyme nor reason for these deaths,” says the chaplain. “All we can do now is to remember them. As long as we remember them, the enemy can not take them fully away from us.”

Oooooooo

Elsewhere in the Milky Way Galaxy, but not too far elsewhere, another group of people have gathered to remember a fallen friend.

“Wolf Gura was among the bravest of us,” says Keith. “He…he knew what he signed up for. He believed in our dream. But to make dreams reality, there is always a price. For Wolf Gura, the price was his life. Any of us…could be called upon to pay this greatest of prices. The wind now carries his soul beyond the physical space.

“It is not fair. But it is right. What is right does not seem fair to us. It is not fair to us.”

The others in the team only stay silent.

“That was good,” says Heinz.

“This should only strengthen our resolve,” says Roid, placing his hand on Keith’s shoulder “We can not let his sacrifice go to nothing. Just think of our descendants, and the descendants of those who inhabit this galaxy.”

Keith does not need to respond with speech.

Oooooo

Inside her office in the Xaos Brisingr Fleet Headquarters, Dr. Naomi Singh checks her e-mails. She had read that Surgeon General Benjamin Greenfeld was okay, and was now back at the Galactic Health Service Headquarters in Galaxy City.

The Health Corps commander opens up a new outgoing e-mail message, and types a message about new data.

oooooo

The stockade inside United Nations Joint Forces Air Field Randor is where prisoners are held. The stockade is operated by a United Nations Air Force security police detachment. Some of the prisoners here are serving short sentences of confinement imposed by court-martial, while many others are either confined due to non-judicial punishment by a superior officer, or awaiting trial by court-martial.

Inside a bare room with only chairs and a table, three women sit down.

“This is so boring,” says one of them.

“Can’t they give us beer? Or video games?” asks another.

The door opens, and they see one of the uniformed Air Force security policemen. Another man enters, wearting some sort of blue uniform. He has brown hair, a short brown beard, and his stomach has a slight bulge.

“Allow me to introduce mEself,” says the man. “Major Sean McGee, United Nations Galactic Military Police.”

The three of them Are surprised that the man speaks their language! 

“Surprised I speak yer language?” asks the major. “Yer language is similar to dat o’ the Zentraedi. I am guessing yuir from a society that grew from tha fragments of tha Robotech Masters.”

“We don’t have to say nuthin’,” says one of the women, whose hair is shiny and white. “We’re prisoners of war.”

“Is that so?” asks McGee. “Well, yuir not. Ya see, you were in unmarked spacecraft radiatin’ jammin’ waves to inhibit Walkure from providin’ much needed medical treatment. No sovereignty has claimed ye. That makes ye pirates.”

“Pirates?” asks a woman with pink hair.

“That’s right, lass. Yuir no more entitled to POW protections than Captain Hook or Mr. Smee or Captain Jack Sparrow.”

The three women look at each other in confusion, wondering what Major McGee had been talking about.

“Terran mythological references,” continues the major. “Right now, you refusin’ to answer our questions is obstruction of justice- up ta five years on that charge alone. And if convicted of piracy in our courts, the three of ye can look forward to spendin’ the rest of ya lives in a deep, dark hole,. No chances of findin’ a man to knock ya up and make babies with. And there is somethin’ else ye need to know. Guess what the Kigndom of Randor has that the United Earth Government doesn’t.”

“What?”

“Death penalty. Randor can punish piracy by execution. Ya see, you were participatin’ in a pirate attack against the territory of Randor. Imagine, a steel cable tied in a loop, yer neck inside the loop. The trapdoor is sprung, and you keep fallin’ and fallin’, faster an’ faster, until the cable goes taut. Yourneck snaps, verterbrae separated, jugulars and carotids severed. Ya die in seconds. Now listen, lassies, we’re of a mind to save money and turn ye in to tha locals an’ let them try an’ punish ye as they see fit. But if ya answer our questions, we will keep ye. We won’t execute ye.”

“Major McGee, you will get your answers soon enough,” says one of the women.

Ooooooo

Pilot Officer Hayate Immelman looks out at the setting sun towards the sea. During his travels, the teen had always preferred the sun setting into the ocean than rising out of it.

He is standing on the flight deck of the Aether, which had since landed in the Xaos Airfield near Baretteburg on Planet Ragna.

“Any thoughts?” he hears.

He turns and sees Flying Officer Mirage Sterling, wearing a simple dress.

“I killed someone,” answers Hayate. “I killed someone.”

“You saved my life, Pilot Officer Immelman,” she says.

“And I had to kill someone to do it, ma’am. Why did this have to happen? Why did they even attack? We just wanted to cure sick people!”

“We signed up for this,” says Mirage, placing her hand on Hayate’s shoulder. “We pledged to protect Walkure. You want to protect Freyja.”

“But whoever I killed has family and friends, like us. He probably has parents like you. Brothers like you, Maybe he has sisters like Amber and Ashley. It’s true even if he was a pirate.”

“You were a slacker, just getting by with life, not taking duty seriously. That…that’s not true anymore. You … you understand. We all face this. I myself may have to stain my hands with blood, to protect you, or Islander, or Driller, or Chef. Or Freyja, or Mikumo or Reina or Makina. Or Captain Johnson or Dr. Singh or the _Aether_.

“If you want to seek other employment, I won’t object. You’ve learned much from me and us, and no doubt any employer would be lucky to hire you.”

Hayate looks as the bottom of the sun’s disk sinks below the maritime horizon. He contemplates his life, as well as recent events involving Freyja and Mirage and Walkure and Xaos.

He contemplates that moment when he saw that fireball, knowing that the plane- and its pilot- had been destroyed.

He takes a deep breath.

“I’ll stay,” he says. “I want to protect people. I want to protect Walkure; I want to protect those suffering from Var syndrome. I hate killing, but I must make this tradeoff for this greater good.”

“I’m with you, Hayate,” says Mirage.

Not far away, around a corner, Freyja Wion looks and listens.

She squats, feeling as if she might lose Hayate for good.


End file.
